Pirates of the Ring
by Aelaer
Summary: Complete. Jack, Gibbs, Anamaria, Will, and Elizabeth sail to Middle-earth; their presence can only have a direct impact on its future. POTC and LOTR. LOTR movie and book verse; follows canon established in first POTC film only.
1. Fellowship of the Ring: And So It Begins

Title: Pirates of the Ring  
Author: Ainu Laire  
Rating: PG-13, T  
Warnings: Mild cursing here and there, blood, action, death, etc, etc…  
Summary: What happens when five characters from the Caribbean sail to Middle-earth, and help determine its future? POTC/LOTR crossover.

**Edited 9/1/10**: The final refining of the final chapters. Last edit.

This story was first published when the first _Pirates of the Caribbean_ was released. I want to make it clear that this story **only follows the first POTC movie**, and Middle-earth does affect the personalities of the characters as time goes on (from what they were in the first movie).

_Previous edits on 7/6/10, 5/23/10, 3/9/10, 1/22/10, 10/30/09, October to December 2008, 8/3/07, and 7/4/05._

Some lines are straight from Tolkien's _Lord of the Rings_, Peter Jackson's _Lord of the Rings_ films, and _Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl_.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the places or characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien, nor do I own any characters from _The Pirates of the Caribbean_. The interactions between the characters of these two worlds are of my own creation.

* * *

Chapter One: And So It Begins

There was a knock on the door at the entrance to the great home of Bag End. Outside the round, green door stood a tall old man leaning on an old, crooked brown staff. When the door was not answered immediately, he knocked on the door with his staff again, swiftly growing impatient. This time a voice from inside shouted out at him.

"No, thank you! We don't want any more visitors, well-wishers, or distant relations!"

The old man smiled. "And what about very old friends?"

The small door opened and out stepped an elderly man, half the size of an average man, adorned with extremely hairy feet and curly gray hair. He looked up at the tall old man with astonishment. "Gandalf?"

The tall old man looked down at him, a smile forming across his wrinkled face. "Bilbo Baggins." They exchanged greetings with each other as Bilbo Baggins led Gandalf inside his home.

Gandalf is a wizard, and everyone knows what wizards are. Bilbo Baggins, however, is a hobbit. Hobbits are strange folk with a long, complicated history behind them. They are small compared to mankind, averaging at around three feet tall, and they have curly hair on both their heads and their feet. They never wear shoes; that is unheard of in the Shire, where almost all hobbits in Middle-earth reside. Hobbits tend to have large appetite, an interest in the brewing of ales, and in the smoking of pipe-weed. But what hobbits truly love is peace and quiet with absolutely no signs of trouble or adventure bothering their daily routines. Bilbo, however, was not exactly what one would call an average hobbit.

Now Bilbo's home, to put it simply, was a hole in the ground. Not your normal kind of hole, like a gopher or snake hole, but a lovely and well kept hole, just tall enough for Gandalf to not hit his head on the ceiling, though certainly small enough for him to collide with the chandelier that hung in the front hall. Soon enough Gandalf made it into the kitchen and sat down on a small chair next to a miniature table- miniature to him, at the least.

Gandalf watched Bilbo with open amusement as the hobbit gulfed down a chunk of cheese. The wizard waited for him to finish it.

"Do you still mean to go through with your plan?"

"Yes, yes, it is all at hand. All the arrangements are made," Bilbo told him as he poured each of them a cup of tea and sat down.

Gandalf sipped at his tea. "Frodo suspects something."

The hobbit glanced at him. "So, you already have seen him? Where is he, anyways?"

"Out past Bywater, enjoying the wonderful day."

Bilbo smiled knowingly. "Ah, yes, the boy does enjoy the outdoors- though boy no longer! He has finally come of age."

"Thirty-three already? My, how time has flown by- though it does not seem to have had any effect on you. My dear Bilbo, you haven't seemed to age at all since last time I was here- you certainly do not look one hundred and eleven years old."

He shrugged. "Well preserved, or so the neighbors gossip. I'm thinking they certainly are onto something! Granted, they do their best to keep such rumors out of my hearing, though I hear them anyways. Not that it matters- after the birthday party tonight, I'll finally be away from them." He glanced out of the window, where he could see the large field below his house. Workers were already setting up for the night's festivities, bringing in tables and benches, setting up tents and pavilions, and decorating the area all about the Party Tree.

Gandalf nodded and waited. When Bilbo said nothing more, the wizard asked, "You will tell Frodo you are leaving, won't you?"

"Yes, yes-"

"He's very fond of you."

Bilbo sighed. "I know. He would probably come with me if I asked him," he said with a small chuckle. "But I think Frodo's heart is still in love with the Shire." He paused, and then turned to his friend with an odd expression written across his face. "I'm old, Gandalf." He put his hand into his pocket and started fingering something. Gandalf eyed him suspiciously. "I know I don't look it, but I am beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel... thin, sort of stretched like butter scraped over too much bread. I need a holiday, a very long holiday- and I don't expect I shall return. In fact I mean not to."

O0O0O0O

Captain Jack Sparrow sailed the Caribbean waters upon the _Dauntless_ with a few of his buccaneer crew, and the couple Will and Elizabeth Turner. Jack and the couple individuals of his crew with him had 'borrowed' the _Dauntless_ from Port Royal, and where the _Black Pearl_ was the captain would not say. Just as he was sailing out of the bay, Will and Elizabeth came out from the cabins where they were planning their honeymoon- or so they claimed. The pirates thought differently, and only sniggered in disbelief at the couple's assertion. As it were, the Turners were just about to leave the ship when they realized that it was out of the harbor with Jack at the wheel. The pirate at once declared that he was taking them on a surprise honeymoon trip. Elizabeth was not very happy with this prospect, but her curiosity was greater than her anger.

"Jack, we both know that you stole this ship, but where is the _Black Pearl_ and the rest of your crew?" Elizabeth asked the sly captain for the tenth time.

He sighed. "Love, I _borrowed_ this ship... just, without permission. And the _Pearl_ is safe; there is nothing to fear. The rest o' me crew is in Tortuga, where I plan to meet 'em." He took out his compass, causally turning the wheel slightly to the left, then back to the right. He looked out at the bright blue sky where the noon sun shone high.

Elizabeth sighed and gazed out into the ocean, rolling her eyes. "This isn't exactly the honeymoon that I wanted," she said to Jack, frowning.

He turned to her, an exaggerated look of shock upon his face. "Whatever do you mean? There is _nothing_ better than being stuck on a boat in the middle of nowhere with moldy food and people vomiting all over the place for your honeymoon."

Her frown deepened. "That was only once, and you gave me that- that stuff! I don't even know what it was!"

He smiled. "You seemed to enjoy it, nonetheless."

Things surely would have become ugly if Will had not descended at that moment from the crow's nest. He looked at both of them with a raised eyebrow and then turned to Jack. He put down the telescope that Jack had reluctantly lent him, a worried look upon his features.

"There is a storm coming and we are heading right into it. I suggest that we steer out of its course."

Jack frowned and took the telescope. "Storm? In this weather? Nonsense." He left the wheel and went to the front of the boat with Elizabeth and Will on his heels. He peered through the eyepiece and made a strange face. "Wow. He's right for once." Will bristled at the comment, but before he could say anything, Jack continued. "Lad, I've been sailing these seas for o'er twenty years, and I've never seen anything like that. Get Gibbs and Anamaria!" When Will made no move to do as told and merely raised an eyebrow, the captain rolled his eyes and turned to Elizabeth. "Love, would you kindly fetch the rest o' the crew while I keep an eye on this storm?"

Elizabeth smiled. "I do that, and you turn this ship around."

"What?"

"You _know_ I don't want to be here, and while I'm sure you find my discontent amusing, you'll soon grow weary of it. I fetch them, and you bring us back to port; we're not too far. Besides, the only way to avoid this storm is to turn around."

Jack contemplated her proposition for a moment. "I'll do that, but I want your bracelet as well," he said, glancing at the trinket she wore on her wrist.

"Deal." She beamed at the two men and went below.

Within a few minutes, Gibbs came up on deck and peered at the oncoming storm; it was much closer now and clearly visible to the naked eye. He muttered something to himself under his breath and then turned to Jack. "I told you it was bad luck having a woman aboard, and two is double the trouble!"

Anamaria just came up on deck to hear Gibb's comment. She snorted, waving her dark hair aside, and said, "No matter how many times ye say that, it won't turn true, y'know." She strode past him and took the telescope, and a frown immediately appeared on her face. "Captain, this ain't no ordinary storm. 'tis not covering the whole sky, only the spot we are approaching. Not to mention 'tis going against the wind, if y' hadn't noticed. We will be in it within minutes, maybe sooner."

Jack took the telescope and looked through it again. His frown deepened. "And no rain... only lightning, with no thunder." He put the telescope down, a gleam in his eye. "Looks exciting, but," he glanced at Elizabeth, "the lady of the ship wishes to return back home. The sea is too much for her."

"We had other plans," Will said pointedly, but did not elaborate further.

Gibbs snorted, not looking abashed by the looks from the Turners. "Oh, I can imagine. That said, that _is_ no ordinary storm. I don't like it. Let's turn back, Jack, and take another route to Tortuga once these two landlubbers are gone." Jack said nothing, but rather turned and went straight for the wheel of the ship. The others stayed at the bow, looking at the storm with mixed expressions.

"Hey! Hey!"

The others turned in surprise and looked to Jack, who was in turn staring at the wheel of the ship with an angry and incredulous expression. The others followed his gaze and, when their eyes found the wheel of the ship, stood stunned, unsure of what to make of the sight before them.

A bright-eyed man, at least seven feet tall and clad in sapphires and blue silks, was steering the ship into the storm. He finally noted their presence, but did not seem concerned that they had noticed him. Rather he stared at them solemnly and under his gaze the others were unable to move. "Now it is time for the fate of Middle-earth to be decided," he said. He than vanished into thin air, and suddenly the storm was upon them.


	2. A Long Expected Party

Chapter 2: A Long Expected Party

Will groaned and put his hand to his head as he slowly rose from the wooden floor that made up the deck of the _Dauntless_. He looked around and saw that everyone else was still unconscious. It was now night and the storm had disappeared. He gently massaged his forehead, willed the headache to disappear, and crawled over to his bride.

"Elizabeth… Elizabeth…" he whispered, shaking her slightly. She groaned and slowly opened her eyes.

"Ugh… what happened?"

Will shook his head and slightly winced when his head did not appreciate the motion. "I- I don't know. All that I know is that the storm is gone and it is now night."

"Yes, yes, so I see for myself," she said dryly.

Jack suddenly woke up. His eyes shot open and he immediately sat up, glanced at Will and Elizabeth, and rolled his eyes. He quickly took in the situation and when he detected no immediate threat to his well-being, casually stood up, rolled his head, and looked about more thoroughly. "Where the bloody hell are we? And who the bloody hell was that steering me ship?"

Elizabeth frowned. "_Your_ ship? This ship belongs to the Royal Navy!"

He ignored her, wobbled like a drunken man over to Gibbs, and kicked him.

"Get up, you mangy dog!" he yelled. "This is no time for sleep." Gibbs looked up at him, blinked twice, shrugged, and pulled an unconscious Anamaria up with him.

Unfortunately for him, she woke up mid-pull. Half asleep, she screamed in fury and kicked him in the groin. Gibbs gasped and fell to the floor again, cursing violently. Once she realized whom she attacked, she winced. "Oh… ehh… sorry," she said with a shrug. Anamaria shot him one look of sympathy before she walked off to join the captain, who was now standing on the port side of the ship with Elizabeth and Will.

Jack twirled his fingers around, looking out at what was unmistakably land. They were on a lake- well, a pond, just offshore. He looked rather pleased with himself.

Anamaria stared at him. "What're you so happy 'bout, Captain?"

His pleased look turned into a smug grin. "I said we were going to get back to land; I did it rather quickly, didn't I?" Without further preamble, he grabbed Elizabeth's wrist and took the bracelet from her before she could protest.

"Jack, I clearly said-"

"That you wanted to get back to land. We have found land. A deal's a deal, love," he finished for her, pocketing the bracelet.

"You dare take-" Will began, but Elizabeth stopped him, putting an arm on his shoulder and gently holding him back.

"It's not worth it," she said, glancing at her husband and then glaring coolly at Jack. "Thank you for this unexpected adventure, but we will be leaving now. I'm sure the people on land are much more hospitable." Will, very much agreeing with her for the moment, started down the ship, Elizabeth following him. "Oh, and Jack? The stones on that bracelet are not real." With that, she disappeared.

"Not real?" He took the bracelet out and inspected it more closely. "That bloody wench," he muttered, glancing at Anamaria and Gibbs, the latter who had finally recovered from the blow. "I'm going after them. She owes me more than this. You two stay here and watch the ship."

"Jack," Gibbs started before he started to descend. "What about that strange man? What is Middle-earth? And how in the world did we end up in a pond out of all places?"

The Captain shook his head. "Such things can be worried about later. You two mind the ship. Don't you _dare_ think about leaving me behind." With that, he climbed down and out of sight.

Gibbs glanced at Anamaria, and then at the pond. "Leave without him...?"

The woman shrugged. "Don't ye ask me. I'm still convinced he's out o' his mind."

"That's what he wants you to think, and most o' the time, he has me thinkin' it."

O0O0O0O

Jack was able to catch up to Elizabeth and Will easily; indeed, they were in the process of climbing a large hill and were quite easy to spot from the Dauntless, which was at the bottom of said hill.

"Hey! Hey Elizabeth, Will!" They stopped and waited for the pirate. Will glanced at Jack with amusement and Elizabeth's face was expressionless. "Now, love, a bracelet with fake stones was not part of the deal-"

"I asked for land, you asked for a bracelet. We each got what we want." With that, she turned around and started climbing again. Jack went in front of her, his hands in front of him as he tried to reason with the woman.

"Now, now, Elizabeth, that wasn't a very honest thing you did there-"

"Just as honest as you were."

"I'm a pirate; you're a noblewoman. You have a name to live up to, y' know. Can't have the governor's daughter cheating people out-"

"Cheating a pirate out of-"

"You shouldn't be talking so ill about pirates when your own husband-"

"Jack! Elizabeth! Quiet; can you hear something?" Will shushed them, staring up at the top of the hill intently.

Now that the two had stopped arguing, they did indeed hear something. They heard music, and the noise of several people gathered together. Suddenly a large firecracker went off and it filled the sky with lights.

"Well, would you look at that! A party- I love parties!" Jack said, his argument forgotten for the moment. "I'm going to go join them." With that, he started up the hill once more. The couple glanced at one another before hurrying after him. Will caught up with Jack and grabbed his shoulder.

"I don't think you should just into run into a party like that. You're a wanted man."

"So?" Jack shrugged off his arm. "It's a party; they'll be too drunk to recognize me. Even if they did, I've escaped such situations before." He started up the hill again.

Elizabeth sighed. "Part of me wants to simply leave him to his own doings, and yet another part of me can't bear to think him dead."

"He does that to you," Will said thoughtfully. "If anything, we _were_ looking for people, and we have found some. We still do not know where we are, and we need to find our way home- perhaps there will be someone you knows who you are. Your father is a well-known governor of England."

"Perhaps. Either way, both Jack and other people are up there, so let's follow him." Will nodded and the two made their way to the party.

O0O0O0O

Jack looked at the partygoers with what only could only be described as complete bemusement. All he could see were children. Granted, there were many children, but they were still only children. It was a saddening thought; the likelihood of pretty wenches and rum at a children's party was slim.

He heard two people approach from behind. "Decided to join me then, eh? It's a large party, but not like the festivities in Tortuga, I'm afraid to say."

"Are they _all_ children?" Elizabeth asked with clear surprise as she watched the scene. They could not see much behind the tents, but they could make out quite a few small shapes running back and forth, sitting, eating, and drinking with one another.

"Looks so to me."

Elizabeth glanced at her husband and Jack and then back at the party. "I think they will be less threatened by me. You two wait here while I see where all the adults are."

"And see if they have their own party," the pirate added with a smirk. She did not reply, but rather left the bushes that they hid behind and went to the nearest child she could find.

"Excuse me," she said, and when the child turned, she held back a gasp of surprise. The child looked as old as her father!

"Yes, what do you want?" he asked, glancing at her with suspicion. "I am about to go to get some cake, so do be quick!"

"Oh, I- I am sorry, I- my apologies."

The child-sized man shook his head as he walked away, muttering, "Big Folk. Such a bother."

She turned to make her way back to her companions, but as she did she nearly bumped into two of the small people who were carrying a large firecracker in the shape of a red dragon. They dropped it in surprise and looked as if they were to bolt, but stopped as they looked her over.

"Oh!" said one. "You are not Gandalf. Good."

Elizabeth shook her head as she looked at them. They were not old, but they did not look to be children, either. Indeed, they both looked to be around her age. "I'm sorry, I do not know who Gandalf is."

One of them hastily started putting the firecracker back from where they had taken it while the other gave her a strange look. "You don't know who Gandalf is? Then you didn't come with him?"

"No, no, I just came not too long ago- I beg your pardon, but what exactly are you?"

He laughed. "You don't know what I am! How very funny. I am a hobbit, mistress. Peregrin Took at your service- though my friends call me Pippin," he explained. "There is my cousin, Meriadoc Brandybuck- everyone calls him Merry, though." Pippin frowned as he glanced her over. "If you didn't come with Gandalf, then who did you come with to the party?"

"Well..." she began uncertainly, but then stopped as she saw Will and Jack make their way from the bushes towards her. "What are you doing?" she asked once they were with them.

"We saw you standing around and thought we would join the conversation. Bushes are sadly rather poor conversationalists," Jack said with a bright smile. He glanced at Merry and Pippin, frowning. "You aren't children."

"No," said Merry with a sigh, "we're hobbits. You are in the Shire, our homeland; you really should know that if you're traveling through here."

"We came here quite unexpectedly," Will put in, looking down at the hobbits' feet with bemusement. He looked back to their faces before they noticed. "It's a rather odd story."

"It is," Elizabeth agreed, recalling the events that brought them here.

"Perhaps you should talk with Gandalf," Pippin said.

"Perhaps who should talk with Gandalf?"

The group turned around and the three strangers kept their check in surprise as the first normal-sized person came into view. He glanced at his fireworks cart and then to the two hobbits, and finally to the other three.

"We're going to be going now," Merry said, dragging Pippin along with him. They quickly hurried off, leaving the four alone.

Gandalf looked them up and down, noting Will's and Elizabeth's rich attire and Jack's completely mismatched outfit. Jack remained completely stoic, though in truth the old man's gaze felt unnatural to him.

"We apologize for the intrusion," started Will diplomatically. "I am William Turner, and this is my wife Elizabeth, and my companion Jack..." he trailed off, unsure whether to reveal his full name.

Jack had no such qualms. "_Captain _Jack Sparrow; a pleasure to meet you," he said with an overly lavish bow. Gandalf raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and returned his gaze to Will.

Will was busy glancing nervously at Jack, so Elizabeth took up the story before the old man noticed. "We didn't mean to come here, truly. We just sort of, well, landed here." With Gandalf's attention now on her, Elizabeth quickly told him about the sea, the storm, and how they woke up there. She left out the odd man at the wheel, though; she did not want to sound completely out of her mind.

"It's a wild story to believe, but our ship is in the pond; you can see it from the top of this hill." She quickly led him through the tents and behind the bushes so they had a clear view of the land surrounding the hill. Down south in a small pond the _Dauntless_ could be clearly seen.

Gandalf said nothing, but gazed at them thoughtfully one by one, his gaze staying the longest on Jack. The pirate met the gaze evenly, though he was relieved when the old man finally broke it- a fact he would not admit to anyone, of course.

"I sense no falsehoods in your tale, though you do not reveal all," Gandalf said plainly, looking once more at Elizabeth. "The ship is proof enough; I have never seen such a vessel before. What sea were you sailing, mistress?"

"The Caribbean- in the New World," she clarified.

"The Caribbean in the New World?" Gandalf mused. "I have heard of neither." What he thought of the revelation he did not reveal to the newcomers. "Nonetheless, it is quite clear that you are not from around here. I would not suggest wandering far- beyond the borders of the Shire, it can be dangerous." He looked them all over once more before he spoke again. "No, there is no evil in you- perhaps some mischief, but no evil. Certainly no mischief beyond plain hobbit mischief." He glanced at Jack subtly before continuing. "I suggest you stay with my friend Bilbo, and his nephew Frodo. The hobbits are celebrating their birthdays this evening. I will tell both of them about your situation, but I suggest that you keep the story to yourselves. The local hobbits will already be in for quite a shock when they see this great vessel in the pond; there is no need to spread the story on how it came to be there. So come, join the party and enjoy yourselves." With that, the wizard turned and went back to the festivities.

Jack frowned at the old man's back. "I don't trust him."

"It's kind enough of him to trust us as much as he does," Elizabeth argued. "We are the strangers here. And anyone who is wealthy enough to throw a party as great as this would be nice to stay with for a while."

"As it is," Will put in, throwing an arm around his wife, "I'm famished. I'm going to take the old man's advice and enjoy myself. You can stay here if you really want, Jack." With that, he and Elizabeth headed over to the party.

Jack frowned. "Don't think you have gotten out of your payment for the trip so easily, Elizabeth!" he yelled after her. "Bloody love birds."

"What, those two? Yea, they're awful."

Jack turned around, and frowned when he saw Gibbs and Anamaria nearby, climbing up the hill towards him. "I thought I ordered you to stay with the ship."

"You did," Gibbs agreed readily. "But we thought on it and realized that nobody could take it even if they wanted to. Besides, you three were takin' too long, so we decided to see what was happenin'."

"I see." Jack crossed his arms and stared at the two evenly. "You still broke an order."

"Yes, we did."

"And you know what I am going to do about it?"

"What, Captain?"

He slapped Gibbs upside the head. "That." Without another word, he turned around and went to join the party.

Gibbs rubbed his head and glanced at Anamaria. "Why didn't he do that to you?"

"He probably knows I'd slap 'im right back."

"Ah."

O0O0O0O

Will and Elizabeth found that while many puzzled glances came their way, for the most part they were not questioned by the other partygoers. For this they were thankful, and soon enough they found the first two hobbits they had stumbled upon, Merry and Pippin.

"Oh, hullo again!" said Pippin with a grin. "Did Gandalf help you?"

"Yes, he did very much," Elizabeth smiled.

"Tell me," Will started, "what is Gandalf doing here when all the rest of the guests are... hobbits?"

"He's Bilbo's friend," Merry explained. "And he made great fireworks for the party."

"He _made_ them?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes; he is a wizard, and wizards can do those sorts of things, you know." Pippin looked at the two humans with a frown. "Everyone knows that he is a wizard. Where in the world are you from?"

"Far... far away," Will shrugged, remembering Gandalf's advice.

"I guess so," Merry said, looking at them suspiciously.

They were saved from further conversation when Elizabeth grabbed Will's arm and pointed to their left. "Gibbs and Anamaria are here!"

"What are they doing here?"

"Likely got bored."

The two crewmembers were indeed on the outskirts of the party, looking at the little people with awe. They had quickly caught on to the fact that they were not children, but were not quite sure where to go; they could not see Will, Jack, or Elizabeth among all the partygoers.

"Oh! You two must be Will and Elizabeth- Gandalf just told me about you."

Startled, the two turned around and saw the person speaking to them was the same height as everyone else, and looked older than them. He seemed to be a very cheerful person and overall good-natured.

"Err, no," said Gibbs with an awkward smile. "But we're with them- where are they?"

"Gibbs! Anamaria!" The small group turned to find Will and Elizabeth making their way over.

"Oh! Gandalf told me that there were three of you." The small old man looked puzzled at this.

"I'm sorry; they were down at the ship," Will explained. "There are just the five of us. Are you Bilbo?"

"Oh, goodness, yes! Bilbo Baggins of Bag End." He gave the humans a short bow. "And there is quite enough room in Bag End for three or five- Gandalf explained the situation to me, and after what I've seen in my days, I am little surprised that now we have boats dropping into Shire ponds!" He chuckled. "Now, I hope you all are enjoying yourselves- eat and drink as much as you want, there is plenty for all, and I know you Big Folk don't even eat that much as it is!" Chuckling once more, he bowed again. "I am frightfully sorry, but I do need to go and make some preparations for a speech I'm giving later tonight. Until another time!" With that, Bilbo scurried off.

Anamaria watched him wide-eyed as he left. "What are these people?"

"They call themselves hobbits," Elizabeth said with a shrug.

"I've never heard of a hobbit before."

"Neither have I," Gibbs said with a light frown. "But they seem rather friendly, and the food looks good. But where's Jack run off to?"

"I don't care," Will said. "I'm going to take up Bilbo's suggestion and eat, and leave Jack to his own doings." Elizabeth nodded and the two left to find a place to sit and eat. Anamaria and Gibbs, not too worried about Jack for the moment, followed them.

O0O0O0O

Jack sat at a table in front of a stage, sitting with a very lovely hobbit lass. He had found that if he ignored their rather short stature, they were close enough to any other person. The ale helped make the illusion stronger.

This hobbit lass, likely one of those adventurous Tooks or Brandybucks, thought Big People were absolutely fascinating and had joined the newcomer with no preamble. Jack had warmed up to her immediately when she brought a tankard of ale to him.

"So you are Bilbo's friend?" she asked him.

"Of course!" Jack said as he drunk the ale- surprisingly good ale at that. "We've been pals for many years! And you?"

"Oh, I'm just his third cousin on his mother's side; twice removed, of course."

Jack blinked. "What?"

"Oh, you like family history!" With that, she started a long tale of how they were related, naming every quirk of said relation and of course boasting about all of their accomplishments. Throughout the tale, Jack drank and tried to concentrate on her, for she was rather comely and had her assets.

Before he completely lost his concentration, an old hobbit suddenly came up on stage, and the lass stopped her spiel as the crowd started cheering for him. Through the cheers Jack was quickly able to make out that the old hobbit was Bilbo, one of the guests of honor.

"Speech, speech!" a few called out, and Bilbo complied.

Jack rolled his eyes through the pleasantries, but hid his surprise- though not his amusement- at the less-than-pleasant words from the speaker. At the end of the speech he was actually paying attention; it sounded interesting.

"I regret to announce that this is the end. I am going now. I bid you all a fond farewell. Good bye." And then Bilbo disappeared.

As all of the hobbits (including the lass by his side) went through various stages of amazement and horror, Jack chuckled. "Good bye!" he said with a short wave. Quickly becoming annoyed with the panicked scene that was hardly developing into anything entertaining, he went to find the rest of his companions.

"Wonderful speech. Knows how to throw the audience into chaos- though there could be more of it," Jack said when he found the others.

"Did you see what he did?" Gibbs said with wide eyes. "It was witch-craft!"

"Like I said, it was wonderful," Jack nodded.

"Maybe it was wizard-craft," Will put in. "Gandalf is a wizard, supposedly."

"A wizard? What have we landed ourselves in?" Gibbs moaned. "We shouldn't mess with such things! We saw what happened with Barbossa; wizards are likely just as bad as curses, if not worse!"

"He seemed kind enough," Elizabeth pointed out. "Besides, we have a place to stay with Bilbo Baggins, even if he can disappear. And he was very generous, Gibbs!"

Gibbs shook his head. "Where is this wizard, anyways?" The group looked around, but saw no signs of him. "Oh, good, this wizard disappears just like that- what do they call themselves?"

"Hobbits."

"Well, if this Gandalf disappeared just like that Bilbo-"

"Gandalf didn't disappear." Pippin, who was nearby and overheard the last part of their conversation, joined them. He glanced at Gibbs and Anamaria curiously before turning to Elizabeth, whom he had taken a liking to. "I saw Gandalf go up to Bag End."

"Bag End?"

"Bilbo and Frodo live there." He pointed up to a home inside a hill just above the party. Elizabeth thanked him and the group hurried up to Bag End.

O0O0O0O

When they came up to Bag End, they saw Bilbo walking just around the corner with a walking stick, humming a tune to him. He did not seem to realize they were there and he quickly disappeared from sight. At the front of the house, the door was open and Gandalf stood there, back to them as he looked at the floor of the front hall.

"That's the wizard?" Gibbs muttered. She nodded. "I'll stay here, then. I don't trust him."

"First wise words I've ever heard from him," Jack said. Gibbs frowned, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

"Fine. You four stay here. I'll talk with him." With that, she went down the path that led to the house, leaving her companions at the gate.

As she approached the wizard, Elizabeth saw that he was not looking at the floor, but rather a lovely golden ring that lay on it right by the doorway. She soon came to stand beside him, and found that she could not take her gaze away from the small piece of jewelry.

"That is a beautiful ring," she said quietly. It was indeed very lovely; it seemed much lovelier than any other ring she had ever seen before. Suddenly a large urge to pick it up and look at it closer came upon her; she wanted to try it on and see how it looked on her hand.

Gandalf turned swiftly to look at her, seeming a little surprised by her presence, as if he had not heard her approach. He quickly covered his reaction and gazed down into her eyes. "Yes, it is, but do not touch it; it is not yours and never will be," he said gruffly as if he had read her mind. The wizard shut the door and stood outside with her. "As I said before, it would be best if you and your companions stayed here in Bag End for the time being and kept your story to yourselves. Bilbo is gone for now, but Frodo is still here and knows your tale."

She nodded, but then frowned as she remembered his words from earlier that evening. "You said that you had not heard of the Caribbean before, Gandalf."

"So I did."

"But others have said you are- are a wizard." He nodded. "Wizards are thought to be evil where I come from. But you are unlike any wizard I have ever heard of."

"Indeed?" His gruff face fell and a small smile came upon it. "How so?"

"You seem much kinder, and even wiser, though I cannot explain why. Yet how do you not know about the Caribbean? It is not an unknown sea anymore."

He exhaled. "Mistress Turner, I have been to many lands in my time, and I have never seen a ship quite like the one in the pond at the foot of the Hill. You may want to consider that as well." With that, he turned and left her there standing alone, more confused than she was before.


	3. At Bag End

I know in the book Gandalf is gone for 17-18 years, but that's way too long; I am going with the movie and making it like a couple weeks to fit with later events in the story with dates in the book. Gandalf can get to Minas Tirith and back, after reading all those ancient document readings in that time, with, uh, magic. XD

* * *

Chapter Three: At Bag End

Later that evening the group met Frodo for the first time. He was much younger than his uncle and did not seem to be as outgoing as the other; indeed, it seemed as if his mind was somewhere else throughout most of the introduction. What he did not tell the group is that, alongside his worries about Bilbo, Gandalf had met him before he had made his way to Bag End. The wizard had told him briefly about the ring that lay in his front hall, and his last words, "Keep it secret; keep it safe," did not help calm his mind in any way whatsoever.

The hobbit, however, accepted the five strangers with few questions and easily found room for all of them. While he found some of their bearings rather odd, he knew from his uncle's many relations that every culture had their own sets of manners and customs and so said little about it.

As Gandalf suggested, the group from the Caribbean stayed inside Bag End most of the time, and when they went outside they did not go beyond its sight. Jack was the one most frequently outdoors, keeping an eye on the _Dauntless_ and making sure that their only means of transportation did not suddenly disappear. It remained where it was, and what the hobbits of Hobbiton and Bywater thought about the massive ship in their pond never came to Bag End.

The three pirates often found themselves rather restless within the hobbit home. While it was well furnished for comfort, the three of them were people of action and the simple home life suited them little. In the end, after Jack had subtly searched the place and found little of interest, and Gibbs finally found even sleeping tiresome, the two men often entertained themselves with a chess set and odd games of their devising. They would speak with the hobbits here and there, but the hobbits usually left the two men to themselves, likely unable to understand Jack's odd demeanor and Gibbs' complete apathy towards said demeanor.

Anamaria was becoming quick friends with Merry, Pippin, and a hobbit by the name of Sam Gamgee. When the three learned that she had poor cooking skills, they immediately went out of their way to teach her all they knew. Sam especially was proud of his skills and was glad to show off many of his cooking tricks. Anamaria was ready to set the three on Elizabeth, who, being a noblewoman, likely knew less than her, but found herself enjoying their company and selfishly wanted to keep them for herself. While cooking with the hobbits turned out to be entertaining, one of her favorite activities in Bag End was helping Frodo keep out very curious hobbits, all who wanted to know where Bilbo went and whom these strange people were. One couple, named Sackville-Bagginses, took the persuasion of a sword from her to leave Bag End. Frodo was torn between gladness and anger by the action, but soon let go of his anger, seeing as he could hardly stand them himself.

Will and Elizabeth often spent their time talking with one another in peace- peace they had not known for a long time. When they were not spending quality time with one another they frequently looked through maps and books. It was through this activity that they discovered what Gandalf was hinting at: they were not on Earth anymore.

"These maps," said Elizabeth one evening to Frodo, "they are completely accurate?"

"Oh yes," Frodo said. "Bilbo used the most accurate information. Of course every map will have its error, but these are the best in the Shire if you want to know about the world Outside."

"Impossible..." muttered Will as he glanced through several different maps. "There is no sign of Europe, Africa, Asia- and these certainly cannot be of the New World, for we would see the Caribbean, or at least some sort of water in the east. We truly are not on Earth anymore."

Elizabeth held up one map that looked to be a map of the whole continent. "What does it say?" she asked, pointing to the strange characters on it.

"Map of Middle-earth," Frodo translated, "along with a couple other details."

"Middle-earth," Will muttered, remembering the words the strange man on the ship had uttered. "Well, at least that question is answered." Frodo looked up at him curiously, but when neither of them clarified, he held his peace.

When Will and Elizabeth told their findings to the rest of the group, their reactions were mixed.

"I've heard crazier things," Jack said nonchalantly as he moved a pawn forward. "'bout as crazy as a cursed treasure, really."

"That man must've been some sort of wizard," Gibbs muttered, studying the chessboard. "Think he knows Gandalf?"

"Doubt it, Gibbs; Gandalf is kind, if not a bit gruff," Elizabeth answered exasperatedly. "He didn't look like a wizard, anyways. He had a robe covered in jewels, after all."

"What does a rich man want with us?" Anamaria asked, crossing her arms. "I'd rather be back home in familiar waters, nice as these hobbits are." Gibbs nodded in agreement as he moved his knight.

"I miss the sea," Jack said simply as he moved his own knight in retaliation. "Bunch of heathens, living so far from the wonderful ocean."

"I know many a man who'd call you that, Jack," Elizabeth said with a raised brow. "And when did you take to chess?"

"Not much else to do 'round here, and I have no plans on leaving my ship out of my reach."

"That ship belongs to the Royal Navy."

"If we're in a different world, love, the Royal Navy doesn't exist, thus making it mine." Jack knocked over a pawn with his knight, and frowned when Gibbs took out said knight with his bishop. "You're disturbing my concentration. Get out, all of you, before I lose my winning streak."

Not in the mood to argue with Jack about property, Elizabeth left in a hurry, Will following. Anamaria glanced at the board one last, whispered something to Gibbs, and quickly left.

"What did she say?" Jack asked when she was gone.

"Nothing of importance," Gibbs said with a shrug, moving his pawn forward. After a couple more turns, Jack lost his queen.

"Nothing of importance?" he said with a raised brow. "Damn that woman." Gibbs only chuckled in reply.

O0O0O0O

It was mid-afternoon and inside Bag End nine people were gathered around a large map of Middle-earth. The group from the Caribbean asked about various places on the map while Frodo answered all of their questions and his three friends listened nearby.

"So let me get this straight," Jack started with a frown as he looked to the southeast corner of the map. "This 'Mordor' was ruled by some bastard who tried to take over the world some thousand years ago?"

Frodo was too polite to comment upon his unique choice of words. "Yes, and is ruled still by him, though he has not done much since. He was much weakened in the battle with the Last Alliance, but he did not perish. I do not know all of the details though."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "_Still_ ruling?"

"Yes; he is immortal, though how or why I could not say. Gandalf would be better suited for that type of question."

"Wonderful world," he muttered with an odd look on his face. "Immortality is here, too." With that, he suddenly left the room, deep in thought.

"What was that about?" Sam asked with a frown.

"Don't mind him; he is always like that," Elizabeth said with a wave of her hand. "I, personally, am really interested in this Rivendell. What in the world do you mean by 'elves'? Do they look like you?"

"Oh, no! I haven't seen elves before, myself, but Bilbo has a few times. They are tall and very fair to look upon. Bilbo always told me it was difficult to describe their ethereal beauty; he always told me it was something I would have to see for myself." Frodo sighed as he gazed at Rivendell. "I do miss him. He has been my family for so long."

"I'm sure he misses you, too, wherever the old hobbit went off to," Merry said, patting Frodo on the back.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. They were surprised, for the curious visitors had stopped pestering them a while ago, and the only visitors that ever came were already at Bag End. Frodo broke out of his somber mood and quickly went to open the door. Inside came in a very weary Gandalf.

"Gandalf! Where have you been?" Frodo asked as he took the wizard's hat and cloak.

"Many places," he replied as he entered the living room, "though on this journey only to one, and one can only hope quickly enough." He glanced around at the large group. "Ah, so you are all still here? Good. But for now I need all of you to step outside. I must speak with Frodo privately. Though where is the other one- Captain Jack Sparrow, as he named himself?"

Gibbs stood up. "I'll go get him. He was thinking on something, though he may not like being bothered."

Gandalf shook his head. "Leave him where he is. I'd rather not bother that man, not now. I have no time for it. Now out, if you all please, out!"

Pippin shrugged. "We were just about to leave anyways. We have an appointment with Farmer Maggot and his carrots tonight." Merry and Pippin grinned at one other and left. Sam sighed and shook his head at the two young hobbits as he followed them. With one last glance at Frodo, the other four left and shut the door behind them.

Gandalf sighed as he sat down. "I hope they haven't been too much trouble, Frodo."

Frodo shook his head. "Their mannerisms are odd, but it may be because they are Big Folk. Then again, it may be because they are from another world. I still can scarcely believe it, even though I have seen their ship for myself. But tell me, Gandalf, where have you been?"

Gandalf smiled. "Good; I did not see evil in them and I am glad they caused you none. It seems my senses are not yet completely gone. Old age does terrible things to a man, you know."

"You know that I know you are more than merely some old man, Gandalf," Frodo said with a smile. "But come now! Where have you been?"

"This journey took me to Gondor, to the great city of Minas Tirith. There I found documents written long ago- it was one written by Isildur that interested me most."

"Isildur!" said Frodo. "He was the son of King Elendil, was he not?"

"And more besides." Gandalf took a deep breath. "In these documents penned by him, Isildur wrote about a small trinket that was created by the Dark Lord Sauron. The trinket itself was a simple golden ring, but this ring was much more than it appeared to be. The Dark Lord poured a great amount of his power and being into this ring, and through it he would control all other Great Rings and their rulers, and so take over Middle-earth. However, during the Last Alliance in the Second Age, Isildur cut this ring off his finger and so severed Sauron from his main source of power, thus ending the many-year war and his darkness- for a time.

"Isildur should have destroyed this ring and ended Sauron's existence there, but the hearts of Men are easily corrupted. The evil that was supposed to be annihilated over three thousand years ago is still alive and gaining power very quickly. While the Dark Lord is still vulnerable, he has a great many resources and is building his strength. This ring of his- known as the One Ring- was lost long ago, when Isildur was ambushed while riding up North. I fear it has been found- and is now in your possession." He paused. "If Sauron regains this ring, the world will fall into ruin."

Frodo was silent for a long while as he absorbed this information. "How do you know that Bilbo's ring- my ring- is the Dark Lord's?"

"I can prove it to you. Bring it out."

Frodo nodded and went to a locked drawer. He drew out the key, took out the ring, and held it uncertainly. "Now what?"

"Throw it in the fire."

Frodo looked at him in surprise. "Are you mad? Why burn such a precious, beautiful thing!"

Gandalf frowned. "Already it grows precious to you. Do not worry, it will not melt."

Frodo, with some difficulty, threw it into the crackling fire. A minute later Gandalf took it out and dropped it in Frodo's hand. Frodo was surprised that it did not burn him; in fact, it was not heated at all. He looked at it and then looked to Gandalf. Gandalf smiled grimly.

"It was smooth but a minute ago; look again."

Frodo did so, and he saw that on the once smooth surface of the ring there was an Elvish script; he, however, could not read it. "What does it say?" he asked.

"_One Ring to Rule them all, One Ring to Find them, One Ring to Bring them all and in the Darkness Bind them." _Gandalf sighed. "Now it is proven: this is truly the One Ring. And Sauron needs only this ring to cover all the lands in a second darkness, and he is seeking it. He must never find it."

Frodo nodded. "Alright then; I will hide it, put it away, and we will never speak of it again. No one knows it's here, do they?" Gandalf did not respond. The hobbit turned to look at him. "No one knows it's here… do they, Gandalf?"

"There is another who knew Bilbo had the Ring; he once owned the Ring himself."

Frodo's eyes widened. "You do not mean Gollum?"

Gandalf nodded. "And even though my allies and I have searched for him, the Enemy found him first. I don't know how long they tortured him, but finally he gave them what information they needed. They know that the Ring is here, in the Shire, and that a Baggins is carrying it. They will come for it."

Frodo looked at the Ring. How could so fair a thing be so dangerous? "What must I do now?"

O0O0O0O

Frodo started packing up his things rapidly. He had to leave the Shire and everything in it behind: his dear friends, his beautiful home, and go all the way to Bree. He did not wish to leave, but it was his fate. As he packed, the hobbit suddenly realized something. "Gandalf, what about the others? Do you think they should be left here alone?"

Gandalf glanced at him; he had not thought about them, so deep was his concern for Frodo and the Ring. As he was about to respond to Frodo's inquiry, there was a sudden noise in the bushes below the large window in the room. Both Gandalf and Frodo turned to the window and after a moment heard a whisper.

"Get down!" Gandalf told Frodo urgently. He took his staff and slowly approached the window as the bushes stirred some more. The wizard hit the thing in the bushes with the end of his staff and it grunted. He threw his staff to floor, leaned out of the window, and pulled the thing hiding in the bushes through the large window and onto the table. It was Elizabeth.

"Confound it all, Sam-" Gandalf started, but then saw it was not the hobbit. She had a couple of twigs in her hair and was looking up at him with wide eyes, clearly frightened. He let go of her arms and she slowly sat up, still watching him nervously.

"I would swear to the Valar that I heard Samwise!" Gandalf said, giving her a bushy stare. She just sat there, still speechless, when Will suddenly swung the door open, sword brandished.

"Let her go," he said.

"There is no need for such a show, boy," the wizard said gruffly, clearly unimpressed with the act. Elizabeth got off the table and went over to her husband; only then did he lower his weapon.

"I did not know what you would do with her," Will said in his defense.

"As I would with any eavesdropper," he said, watching as Gibbs, Anamaria, and Sam ran into the house in a similar state as Will and Elizabeth. "Many eavesdroppers!" The group said nothing, but Sam slightly backed himself behind Anamaria as the wizard's temper grew.

"We want to help Frodo," Elizabeth said suddenly.

"We do?" Gibbs muttered to Anamaria. Anamaria shrugged, not much caring either way.

"It does not matter if you do or not; you will accompany him," Gandalf said unexpectedly. He raised an eyebrow at their surprise. "Why the surprise? Since you know of his situation, you must go with him. We cannot risk the Enemy coming to any of you and gaining information, and they will be here at Bag End any day now once they find out a Baggins lives here."

"Oh, good," said a voice. In the second-to-left room of the hallway came out Jack, holding a book. "I've been reading this fascinating book, and while I was interrupted by their tale coming through the hall, I did manage to concentrate rather well on the story."

"Which story?" Will asked with a smirk.

"Theirs, of course," Jack answered as if it were the most obvious question in the world. "I'm glad that we're getting out of here; I may figure out a way to move that ship on the journey, or even find a new one. Still, fascinating book."

Gandalf ignored Jack's ramblings and turned to Frodo. "That settles it. You'll take Sam and all of them with you to Bree. I will meet you there at inn of _The Prancing Pony_."

"And where will you be going?"

"I must see the head of my order; he will know what to do, now that the Ring has been found." Gandalf glanced at the seven of them. "Get as much rest as you can. We will leave early on the morrow."


	4. Over River and Through Wood

Chapter 4: Over River and Through Wood

Early the next day the eight of them set off. They carried several bags filled with provisions to last them a long time; while they only planned to go to Bree, there was no telling how long the road would be, and how many setbacks they would have. Gandalf traveled with them for a good part of the morning, but finally they came to the point where his road went south while theirs went east.

As the wizard mounted his horse, Will asked him, "Where do we go after this?"

"To avoid unfriendly eyes I would suggest going through the fields and on lesser-known forest paths to Bucklebury Ferry. Bree is northeast of the Ferry, and there is more than one path to the town. What path you choose you will have to decide on your own," he added, glancing at the rest of the group intently.

He then turned to Frodo. "Never put It on, for the agents of the Dark Lord will be drawn to It. Always remember that It is trying to get back to Him. It _wants_ to be found." Without another word, Gandalf took off, quickly disappearing out of sight.

Will sighed. "Let's move on then to this ferry that he mentioned."

Sam glanced down at his feet, frowning. "I don't like water."

Completely flabbergasted, Jack swiftly turned to him. "Don't like water? How could you not?"

Sam mumbled, "I… I can't swim."

The man's eyebrows shot up. "Can't swim? You'll have to learn then, mate! I'll just toss you into a pond and we'll start from there!" Sam visibly paled at the suggestion and Jack only grinned. That frightened the hobbit even more.

"I'd- I'd rather not, Mr. Jack."

"You certainly won't be willing now, would you?" Will muttered, glancing at the pirate exasperatedly. "Let's keep moving."

They walked through many different fields and forests and walked for a good long time. They ultimately decided to eat lunch while on the go, and as noon turned into the afternoon they continued on some more. Finally Gibbs, feeling the strain of the many miles on his body, started to fall behind. When Will noticed and told the others to slow down, the older man only muttered something about "getting used to me land legs". Frodo, however, shook his head.

"We can stop here for now. We have walked for a long time and I think we all could use some rest." As it was, the place they stood in now was as good as any: they were currently in a large field, and the long stocks hid them from view from any spies that may be on the lookout for them.

They were just about to sit down when, as one, they heard something. Will glanced at his wife and by her startled look he knew he was not the only one hearing things. Something was coming towards them.

And something did. Two small figures ran straight into the group. Will accidentally tripped one of the figures over, and then was knocked over by another. The man fell into Gibbs, and then he into Anamaria, until the whole group ended up tangled on the ground. The only one who managed to escape was Jack. His eyebrows rose as he glanced at the unsightly heap of bodies, but soon a grin split his face.

"Hey! It's Merry and Pippin!" he cried gladly, helping them to their feet. "How're y' doing, mates?" Merry and Pippin only nodded in greeting, still attempting to catch their breaths. The others were soon up themselves, a couple sending the two hobbits unappreciative glances. There was no time for angry words, though, for suddenly they heard a livid voice accompanied by barking dogs coming their way. Anamaria turned to the hobbits and saw that they carried many different types of vegetables.

"Run!" Pippin cried, grabbing all of the cabbages and carrots that he dropped in the collision. Jack looked at the vegetables, grinned, and quickly snatched a carrot from the hobbit as they ran.

The group raced through the field for about a minute, Merry and Pippin giving frantic excuses about their presence to a peevish-looking Frodo. Jack, well learned in the art of running from pursuers, was in the front of the group. He suddenly stopped on the edge of a very steep hill, glad that he had noticed it in time. The others, though, were less graceful than he. Pippin ran into him, and then Merry into his cousin, followed by Gibbs, Will, Anamaria, Frodo, and Sam. Elizabeth finally came in last, collided into her companions, and before they realized what was happening they began to roll down the hill.

Their unexpected trip was short, but uncomfortable. At the end of the hill was a small drop that landed them onto a road. They groaned as one as they landed hard upon the dirt and it took them a moment to recover their senses. Merry let out another loud moan after the initial complaints and said, "I think I broke something." He pulled out a carrot from beneath his body, which was now in two parts.

Jack got up and dusted off his half-eaten carrot before finishing it. Anamaria was up right after him, muttering curses under her breath as she glanced at the other woman, while Gibbs was content to sit down for a while, catching his breath. Will picked himself off the earth and pulled Elizabeth up before brushing the dirt off his clothes.

Jack looked at Elizabeth mockingly. "Was that supposed to be an example of your ladylike grace?" She glared at him, but did not bother to retort and helped up Frodo instead.

Pippin suddenly gasped. "Look! Mushrooms!" Merry and Sam turned to where Pippin saw them, and with much struggle, each of them tried to get more mushrooms than the other two.

Will frowned. "How do you know those aren't poisonous?"

"Poisonous mushrooms? Whoever heard of such a thing!" Merry scoffed, filling his pockets with as many of them as he could.

Anamaria snorted. "What is it with hobbits n' mushrooms?" she asked Frodo; this was not the first time she had seen such weird behavior concerning hobbits and mushrooms during her time there.

Frodo, however, was not paying attention to them. He was staring down the road, and a strange look was in his eyes. "I think we should get off the road," he said suddenly.

Jack stared at him and then looked down the road. Like the others, he saw nothing that would indicate danger. "Why?"

Elizabeth, to her slight disbelief, found herself agreeing with the pirate. "I understand Gandalf said to stay off the road, but I don't see anything coming down it. It looks empty."

Frodo did not seem to hear them; indeed, he instead started to panic. "Get off the road! Quick!"

Elizabeth frowned as she observed the hobbit's strange mood, glanced at the others, and without a word they agreed to listen to Frodo, even if only to calm him. She alongside her husband pulled up the rest of the hobbits while the other three searched for a suitable hideout with Frodo. They quickly found a large hollow under a tree on the side of the road; several roots hid them effectively from the sight of anyone who traveled on the road slightly above the hollow.

How they all fit in there was nothing short of a miracle. The scene looked something like this: Jack, Will, and Gibbs sat as far into the hollow as possible. Elizabeth sat on Will while Anamaria, to her great displeasure, sat on top of Gibbs. Merry and Pippin sat together on Jack while Frodo sat on Elizabeth and Sam on Anamaria. In this rather uncomfortable position they crunched up together and waited, though no one was sure what it was they waited for.

Sooner than they expected their unspoken question was answered. They heard the galloping of a horse on the road they had just been on, and they found that the closer it came, the heavier the dread in their hearts became. To their chagrin, it stopped right above where they were hiding. Jack looked in a small crack between the roots and saw a black hoof covered in something that looked suspiciously like blood. Foreboding, to say the least. The hoof was suddenly blocked by a foot in armor- armor loud enough for each of them to hear clearly. Their unexplainable dread began to turn into outright terror as the figure approached.

The horseman bent down and the group could see that it was a cloaked man dressed in black. He started sniffing as if he were a beast and for some reason he could not see them. Even the more adventurous and brave among them dared not to breathe. Sam, who felt as if his heart had turned into ice, looked at Frodo to see how he was handling himself. The other hobbit took something out of his pocket and Sam quickly realized that it was the Ring. He grabbed Frodo's left hand so he could not slip the Ring on it. Frodo quickly came out of the trance he was in and shoved the Ring back into his pocket.

Suddenly Merry grabbed their bag filled with mushrooms and threw it over to his left. The hooded man shrieked at the noise and sudden movement and went for the bag, leaving them alone. As soon as he moved, the company stood as fast as they were able and started running down the hill away from the road.

Once they were at the bottom, Gibbs leaned against a tree, looking at Frodo with unmasked suspicion. "What the hell was that thing? It was sniffing us like some sort of dog! What sort of sick country is this?"

Frodo did not heed his words. Instead he looked at the Ring, astounded. Will quietly came over to him and stared at the piece of jewelry, remembering Gandalf's foreboding speech to Frodo just last night. "So that's what drew him here, to us? That ring?" Frodo slowly nodded and quickly put it back again into his pocket. Will eyed his pocket for a moment before hesitantly turning away.

Anamaria sat on the ground, hoping her scowl masked any terror that she felt. "Whatever that… _thing_ was, it better not come here again! I haven't felt so cold in all my days!"

Gibbs shook his head. "Aye, I don't want to see him neither, but I have a strange feeling that he will be back. Aye, he will…"

Pippin, unlike the rest of them, was not thinking about the strange horseman. Instead he was yelling at Merry.

"The mushrooms! _Why the mushrooms?_ We need those mushrooms!"

"Quiet, Pippin!" Sam scolded, turning his attention briefly from Frodo. "I'd like those mushrooms too, but better those than us!" Pippin glared at both Sam and Merry before stalking away.

Merry, who was hardly paying any attention to his cousin, shook himself out of shock. "We need to keep moving." He paused. "By the way, where are you all heading to? And where did Gandalf go?"

"We are going to the ferry. Where Gandalf is I do not know, but our business is none of your concern, Merry," Frodo stated. "Let's keep moving before that thing comes back."

Merry did not look pleased at the answer, but rather than leave them, continued with the group to the Ferry. Pippin, realizing he did not want to be left alone, followed quickly after them, his disappointment over the lost mushrooms soon forgotten.

O0O0O0O

It was a good hour past sunset and it was not too long ago that the company had changed their pace from a brisk walk to a run. The chill that came when the hooded black rider was nearby was strong.

They stopped near the road, taking refuge behind some tall brush. They sat down, all of them weary and gasping for breath. Merry glanced around nervously before crawling over to Frodo, a determined look upon his face. "Frodo, you owe me and Pip some explaining. We are going with you, whether you like it or not. We're your cousins and we love you, and us hobbits have to stick together as it is. So why don't you just tell us why you are leaving the Shire and heading to the ferry?"

Frodo looked at him with a frown, still breathing heavily. Finally he said, "We have enough people already; no more are needed, Merry."

Merry nodded slowly, as if he knew that that would be the answer. "It's about that ring, isn't it?"

Frodo looked at him, gaping. "How- how did you know?"

Merry grinned. "Me and Pip are known as the best eavesdroppers in the Shire; we once heard Bilbo talking about it. How it made you invisible and all. We do not know what else there is to this ring; there obviously is, since you are leaving the Shire because of it."

Frodo shot him a grim smile. "Very well then. We are now nine trying to escape one terrifying rider that turns your blood into ice with a ring that is more powerful than any other force in the world. The rider is likely after this ring, and with that knowledge we still try and flee to a ferry that will likely not hold all of us on it at once."

Will overheard Frodo, but rather than trying to appreciate his wry humor, he shook his head instead. "Not one rider- look!" He pointed cautiously over the bushes that hid them from the road. They saw two riders together.

Jack frowned. "Two of them. That is _exactly_ what we needed." While the pirate had dealt with treasure that made the greed in him rise, he had never dealt with a creature that froze his blood and shadowed his soul. Frankly put, he did not like the feeling; it downright disturbed him.

Elizabeth shook her head. "There is a third!"

Pippin glanced at Frodo worriedly. "How many are there, Frodo?" Frodo shook his head, not knowing the answer himself.

The riders galloped off. Will stood up, brushing his leggings subconsciously. "We need to hurry. Does anyone here know exactly where this ferry is?"

"I do," said Merry, "And I shall lead the way." They nodded, and as one sprang out of the bushes, following the small figure.

Suddenly a rider blocked their path. They jumped and started screaming directions to each other as they evaded the hooves of the rider's horse. Jack pulled out his sword alongside Will, Gibbs, and Anamaria, and they tried warding off the riders as the others ran for the ferry. Elizabeth tried to stay with them, but unspoken words were sent between her and her husband, and she finally followed the hobbits instead. She vowed to herself to find a weapon as soon as possible.

Jack suddenly remembered that he had a pistol. Rolling his eyes, he quickly drew it, aimed for the rider, and pulled the trigger. To the disgust of them all, the man missed. The rider, however, was taken aback by the noise while the horse became terrified for a moment, completely unused to such a sound.

"I think it's time to go to the ferry," Will said, sheathing his sword and running away as he did. The others were quick to follow

Jack caught up with Will as they ran down the path, Anamaria and Gibbs close behind. They could now see the ferry right beyond a small wooden gate. The four jumped over the structure; three out of the four made it. To everyone's dismay, Jack's sleeve was caught on one of the rough edges of the wood. As he finally ripped his sleeve off it, he realized that the ferry (which was little more than a raft) was leaving without him. He glanced behind him and saw the rider and his horse had recovered from the gunshot noise and were heading straight towards him. His eyes widened and he ran to the river.

"Wait for me!" he yelled. He did not want to be left alone with this rider. There was something about him that reminded him of all those dead pirates, only much, much worse. Something much darker and much more deadly. He jumped off the dock to get to the ferry, flew over it instead, and landed in the river. Jack, unlike Sam, however, was a very good swimmer, and was able to stay afloat until Gibbs and Will helped him up onto the raft. The nine of them crunched up together on the small wooden flat, but despite their uncomfortable position they were very thankful for making it in one piece. The black rider stopped his horse on the dock and let out a piercing scream that had them covering their ears to lessen the impact of the sound. Finally the horseman rode off, a couple of his companions following him.

"How far to the nearest crossing?" Frodo asked Merry.

"The Brandywine Bridge- twenty miles," he replied.

O0O0O0O

They abandoned the raft on the other side of the river. They were surprised, but thankful that it did not tip over or sink because of their combined weight.

Will stared at Jack disbelievingly as he got off the boat. "You missed! How could you possibly miss?"

Jack shrugged casually. "Even the best of us make mistakes, mate," he retorted. "At least I had a gun to scare him off with. Wouldn't have gotten far without it, would you?" Will just shook his head.

Once on shore the group headed due east, following the road from the ferry. After a while they came to a crossroad; one way led north, another east, and the last path went south. Anamaria sighed. "Bloody great; now where do we go?"

"Well, south is not where we want to go; Bree is northeast from here," Frodo said. "So, we either take the road North and follow it until we come to the Brandywine Bridge, and then we go East from there, or we go East into the forest and then cut a path northeast through it."

Merry shook his head. "Frodo, we can't go in there; that's the Old Forest. There are creatures in there that we don't want to deal with."

Frodo nodded. "Yes, but we have those black riders following us. By going through the forest, we can lose them."

"Why don't we vote?" asked Pippin. Frodo nodded, turning to all of them.

"Well, which way do you want to go? The road or the forest?"

Jack spoke first. "A smart man would go through the forest; last I saw, these riders had swords, while the trees are wonderfully bereft of such weaponry." Will and his wife nodded in agreement.

"I want to stay on the road; there is something in them woods that is just unnatural," Gibbs said, glancing at the trees with a frown. Anamaria and Merry agreed with him.

Sam voted for taking the forest, for he was just terrified of those riders, while Pippin wanted to take the road, for he had heard many tales that were not complimentary about the Old Forest. They were at an impasse: Jack, Will, Elizabeth, and Sam versus Gibbs, Anamaria, Merry, and Pippin. It was up to Frodo to decide which path to take.

"I am terrified of the forest," Frodo started, "but I am even more terrified of those riders. And I have a feeling they are after It. So we will go through the Old Forest." The hobbit sighed. "Let's get some rest on the borders of the forest, right by the hedge, and we will go in tomorrow morning." With the road chosen, the group walked for a couple more miles due east, came to the hedge about an hour later, set up a small camp, and quickly fell asleep after a long day.


	5. Tom Bombadil

Chapter Five: Tom Bombadil

At dawn the next day the company entered the Old Forest without a word. Silently they passed through a small door that was the only entrance from the Shire to the Old Forest, for a tall hedge blocked off the rest of the forest. Soon the early morning daylight disappeared as they began to pass through the many species of trees in the wood. Sunlight that managed to emerge through the entangling branches was rare, so it was somewhat difficult to keep to the dark path.

As they went deeper into the woods, the trail became rougher and the forest darker. Their original plan was to keep to the trail going northeast, but it seemed that the forest had other ideas. When they tried going north or east, the path always steered them south or west. They could not go into the trees for they were so thick that it would be hard going through unscathed.

After a while, one of them finally spoke up.

"I thought we were attempting to go northeast?" Jack asked Frodo.

Frodo nodded. "Yes, but it seems that the trees have other ideas. They keep on blocking us."

Anamaria laughed aloud. "Moving trees? Whoever 'eard of such a thing?"

Merry shot her a look. "The Old Forest isn't a normal forest, Anamaria. Years ago this forest actually tried to fight against the people of Buckland- grew over the hedge at a rapid pace, and would not stop despite the fact that the residents of Buckland cut it back constantly. It wasn't until they made a great bonfire that the forest finally ceased its attempts to cross the hedge."

Anamaria narrowed her eyes. "Thinking trees. Bloody hell."

"As interesting as that is, that still doesn't change the fact that we are heading in the wrong direction," said Jack pointedly.

"There isn't much we can do," Merry snapped, his patience growing thin. He had not wanted to go through the forest in the first place.

Jack held up his hands in mock surrender. "Just saying."

In the end, the citizens of the Caribbean were sure to stay as far away from the trees as possible. Anamaria kept close to the center of the path and kept on looking at the wood with dark eyes. Jack, while seemingly nonchalant about the situation, was also careful to not step on any protruding tree roots. Gibbs was right behind him, hand resting on his sword and darkly muttering something about witchcraft. Elizabeth was having a trying time keeping her dress from entangling itself in anything, while her husband had his hand protectively on hers, his own eyes vigilant on their surroundings.

Many hours later, quite a while after they had stopped attempting to go in any direction that the forest did not agree to, they reached a river. It was mid afternoon and the Old Forest had steered them south the whole time. When Merry saw the river he groaned audibly.

"Well, at least now I know where we are. We are completely off course. This is the Withywindle; we're in the southern part of the Old Forest. However, if we just follow this river, we should get out of the forest soon enough. Once we are out of the woods, we go north across the Barrow-downs, and then take the East Road to Bree. Then…" He paused.

"Then we will see what there is to see," Frodo ended for him. "Come along then. The sooner we are out of here, the better. We do not want to spend the night in here." All of them nodded in agreement and followed the river's course.

A couple minutes later, Jack yawned. "I'm tired," he stated. He, however, was only stating what everyone else was experiencing; all of them were slowly, but surely becoming very weary and each of his companions slowly nodded in silent agreement.

"Let's rest under that large willow tree," Pippin suggested. Without further discussion, the group dropped their bags and rested against or near the tree. Slowly, one by one, they dozed off.

O0O0O0O

A quick shout broke the silence in the area. Swiftly afterwards there was a large splash, and with that last sound the company woke up. They saw that Anamaria was in the river, cursing loudly enough to disturb any remaining wildlife nearby. She quickly got out and started yelling some more.

"That bloody tree threw me in the river!" she screamed, glaring at it darkly.

Jack's eyes slightly widened as he glanced at the forest about them, slowly considering the implications. "_Very_ interesting," he muttered. He put a hand on the back of his neck and slightly leaned back, glancing at the branches above him, before he realized something was wrong.

"Where's my hat?" he asked himself. A quick look around quickly led to its discovery: half of it was sticking out of the willow tree. He jumped up, ran over to the willow, and started tugging on his hat. It was not coming out at all; in fact, it seemed that the hat was going deeper into the tree. He finally gave up and stopped pulling, looking at the tree darkly and silently devising new ways to retrieve his hat.

Will glanced around, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "Where's Elizabeth?"

Frodo looked about too as he gained his bearings. "And where are Merry and Pippin?"

They heard muffled screams; at first they could not tell where they were coming from, but soon enough discovered that the noise came from inside the tree. All those outside of the tree quickly ran up to the base of the willow.

"Elizabeth!" Will shouted. He saw her hand sticking out and grasped it tightly. "Don't worry, we will get you out!" He took out his sword, and Jack, Gibbs, and Anamaria swiftly followed. Jack, of course, was most concerned about his hat.

They heard a shout from the other side of the tree. "Don't!" someone yelled. "He says that he will suffocate us if you hack him!"

"They can talk, too?" Anamaria asked herself as she reluctantly put away her sword. "That's great."

Jack looked up at the tree with a new, grudging respect. "Interesting."

The others also put away their swords as it soon became evident that the willow would make good with its threat. Frodo started searching around nervously, and then without warning darted off, screaming for help. The others looked after him worriedly. Jack shrugged and went back to trying to pull his hat out of the tree, which had already sunk lower into the wood.

Suddenly everyone heard singing coming from somewhere further down the river path. "_Hey dol! Merry dol! Ring a dong dillo! Ring a dong! Hop along! Fal lal the willow! Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!_"

Will glanced at Jack wryly. "Sounds like one of your types."

Jack looked wounded. "My songs are much better than that."

The singing ceased for a minute, and then suddenly Frodo came back with the strangest looking man they had ever seen. He wore yellow boots, a bright blue coat, and a huge hat. A long brown beard framed his jolly red face. About a foot higher than the hobbits, he was too tall to be one of them, but too short to be a Man. He wore a huge smile on his face- an expression that convinced the people of the Caribbean that he was utterly mad.

"What's wrong, me lads?" the strange man asked. He looked at all of them curiously.

"Our friends are stuck in the willow tree," Frodo explained hurriedly. "We tried getting them out, but nothing is working!"

The man laughed. "That's it? Old Tom knows all the forest's secrets, knows Old Man Willow's secrets. Naught worse than that? We will have them out soon enough my hearties!" The man walked- or more like danced- over to the tree, and whispered something like a song into the bark. The willow tree shivered, and suddenly out popped Elizabeth, Merry, and Pippin. Will caught Elizabeth, Anamaria caught Pippin, and Gibbs caught Merry.

Jack frowned. "And my hat!" he demanded. The hat flew out of the tree towards Jack. Jack jumped up to catch it, but tripped on one of the willow's roots that had suddenly appeared behind him, and fell into the river. "I won't forget that soon," Jack muttered darkly to the tree as he stood and retrieved his hat.

As soon as everyone was all right, they stood together and surveyed the stranger. All of them (other than Jack, who was too busy making sure his hat and clothes were dry) thanked him.

The stranger laughed. "Anytime, no problem here!" he said in a singsong voice. "Now, you shall come home with me! The table is all laden with yellow cream, honeycomb, and white bread and butter. Goldberry is waiting. Time enough for questions around the supper table. You follow me as quick as you are able!" With that, he started dancing quickly away.

The others followed him as fast as possible. Even though he was only dancing he was very fast and it was hard to keep up with him, especially with all their heavy bags weighing them down.

"Is it just me, or is this man a lunatic?" Will asked as they ran after him. Gibbs nodded quickly.

"Yea, and I can't understand a single word he says," he stated.

They kept running until finally they emerged from the forest. It was just past sunset and quickly getting dark. They found themselves on a green plain, with the trees on the edge of the flat land well kept and the grass short and trimmed. They still followed the man along the river until they came to a well-kept house. It was the only building they could see in the area, but the cheery lights streaming out of the windows made them quickly forget that.

They saw the man standing in the doorway, still singing nonsense. He waved to them, motioning them inside. Once they came to the doorway, slowly, one by one, as if in a dream, they stepped inside.

They all sat down together at a long table and thanked him repeatedly for his kindness, but he just laughed.

"Not a problem, not a problem, my hearties! Now that we are in my nice, cozy home, we shall say introductions, starting with myself. I am Tom Bombadil, Master of the waters, trees, and air, spouse to fair Goldberry."

"Then you own these lands?" Will asked him. Tom shook his head.

"Oh no! They all own themselves; I am just the master of them. Neither tree nor branch has ever caught Tom! I have no fear of them. Now, who are you, and what are five children of Men and four hobbits doing in the forest?"

Frodo spoke. "I am Frodo Baggins. They are Samwise Gamgee, Peregrin Took, and Meriadoc Brandybuck."

Will then added, "I am Will Turner. This is my wife Elizabeth, and they are Jack, Gibbs, and Anamaria."

"Wife, eh?" Tom said, glancing at Elizabeth. "I shall find my own now."

"You need not look," said a voice from atop the staircase of the home. As one, the company looked up and saw a fair-headed maiden dressed in green; she wore a kind smile on her face.

Tom grinned. "There's my pretty Goldberry."

The woman glided down the stairs. She went into an adjourning room and soon came out with a large tray laden with food. She put down many plates of bread, butter, and honey, which the company stared at hungrily. When she set down jugs of water, Jack frowned and then said with a charming grin, "Hey, love, you don't happen to have a bit of ale, eh?" Gibbs looked up eagerly at the question and even Will could not hide his interest. The hobbits, too, were keeping their ears open; hobbits, after all, do love their drink.

Goldberry smiled and said, "We do not carry ale often in this house." With that, she finished serving and sat down on the other side of the table across from Tom, and then they all started eating. Elizabeth and Goldberry merrily chatted with each other while Tom questioned the others.

"So, my hearties, what were all of you doing in the forest? No place for strangers."

Frodo answered for the group. "We are heading to Bree. The roads are… err…"

"Filled with Black Riders that chill your very bones," finished Pippin.

"We voted on which route to take, and ended up with the Old Forest."

Tom nodded. "That's curious business enough, but just as curious is all of you together! I haven't heard of such wandering bands before. How did you all end up like this?"

While they were now filled with food and greatly comforted, those of the Caribbean remembered Gandalf's warning and, while it seemed silly in such a cheery setting to heed it, were careful not to reveal their true nature to him. After all, only the wizard, Bilbo, and Frodo knew where they were really from, even though Sam, Merry, and Pippin were certainly suspicious of their claim of just being "friends with Gandalf and Bilbo".

Tom did not seem convinced, but he only nodded and did not press the issue further. "Gandalf, Gandalf, I know of him- it has been a long time since we've talked. But still," he said suddenly, "what business do you have in Bree?"

Frodo kept it simple. "We are to meet Gandalf there."

"Gandalf!" said Tom with a laugh. "Gandalf does have his mysteries! But come, come," he said without further explanation of his statement, "dinner is done and we will now tell stories by the fireside! Come along my hearties!"

Elizabeth went with Goldberry, who she took a great liking to, to help with the dishes while the others went with Tom to the fireplace. Tom told several stories about the world and both the group from the Shire and the Caribbean learned a great amount of things that night. As they shared stories of their own, Will and the others talked about their life in the Caribbean, and though they never mentioned any names they often said more than they meant to say. It was as if this comfortable home loosened their tongues beyond their complete control. The hobbits also discussed many things concerning the Shire and events there. Frodo said much more than he meant to; he spoke about Bilbo's party, the black riders, and finally he even ended up speaking about the Ring.

Tom listened to all of their stories with no interruptions. However, as Frodo talked about the One Ring, he suddenly said, "Show me this precious Ring!"

To everyone's amazement (including Frodo's), he unresistingly took out the Ring and handed it to Tom.

As Tom was fiddling with it and pulling it on and off (he did not disappear, to everyone's amazement), Jack came out of his dreamy state and watched the Ring intensely. It was his first time seeing the Ring closely, and he suddenly felt a great lust for this precious treasure; greater than any lust he held for any treasure before. He knew that he would cherish it beyond all other riches, and that this simple, but beautiful ring would turn all his dreams into reality. He watched as the Ring went up into the air and nearly panicked with Frodo when it disappeared. Tom laughed and handed it back to the hobbit with a smile. Jack quickly turned his head away to hide his expression, but only one thought went through his mind: he must have that ring!


	6. The Prancing Pony

Chapter Six: The Prancing Pony

The company stayed two days with Tom Bombadil and Goldberry, but finally the day came when they had to leave. Tom let the group borrow the four ponies and four horses he had in his care, Elizabeth and Will ending up together on one of the latter. None of the people from the Caribbean really knew how to ride a horse, but it was easy enough with Tom Bombadil's steeds. They were slow and obeyed Tom's orders.

They still had their packs from the Shire filled with food and necessities, and Tom was kind enough to provide cloaks for those from the Caribbean, though he would only laugh when they asked why he had five large, spare cloaks lying around. As they stood outside his home, thanking the couple many times, Tom Bombadil told them one last bit of advice.

"Now, you need to stay away from the hills; barrow-wights live within them. When you reach the road, send the horses and ponies loose, they'll know how to find me. You must be at the road by sundown; you do not want to be in the Barrow-downs at nightfall, not at all! It is very foggy and this is when the barrow-wights come out. When you reach Bree, do as the wizard told you; you should be safe at _The Prancing Pony_. Butterbur is a respectable man, means well. Be careful, and farewell! May we meet again!"

With that, Tom turned around, singing to himself, and waved one last farewell. The rest waved to him, and the horses and ponies trotted away.

O0O0O0O

The rest of the day passed with little event. They only stopped once at noon for a quick lunch but soon started again. The hobbits had fallen asleep for a time but the others woke them with little trouble. After several more hours of riding, the group finally reached the road at sundown. They took all of their packs from the horses, and while the seafarers were especially reluctant to part with the loans, eventually sent them home to their master. "Nags would likely run away if we tried to take them any further as is," Gibbs muttered as he watched the steeds trot off to the south.

"I wonder how Bree is like…" Sam wondered partially to himself, partially to the others.

"There are hobbits there, and there are Big Folk," Merry replied. "Some of my folk, hobbits of Buckland, ride out here every now and then. It is supposedly a respectable place."

"As respectable as it is, remember that this is not the Shire, and do remember to _not_ call me Baggins. If any name shall be given, I will go by Underhill," Frodo said sternly. "You all remember what Gandalf said: they are looking for a Baggins." The others nodded solemnly, and with that started walking up the road to the town of Bree.

About half an hour after sundown they came to a large gate. It had started to rain a couple minutes ago and now it was coming down heavily. Jack tried to push the large wooden gate open, but it would not budge. Elizabeth went up and knocked on the door in the gate.

Soon an old man looked through a small opening in the door, and when he saw a woman's face swiftly opened it. It was obviously the gatekeeper, though he frowned when he saw that it was not only a woman, but a whole band of strangers.

"What do you want?" he asked them gruffly.

"We are heading for _The Prancing Pony_," Frodo replied.

He looked suspiciously at all of them, eyeing the dark-skinned Anamaria as if she were some sort of strange creature. She narrowed her eyes in response. Finally he said, "Hobbits, three men, and two lasses? What business do all of you have in Bree? Are you together?"

"Yes, we are together," said Will shortly, wrapping his new cloak closely around his body.

"And our business is our own," Frodo added.

He glanced warily at all of them once more, his eyes this time staying the longest on Jack. The man met his stare evenly and impassively, though he was quickly becoming impatient; he would have preferred to climb over the gate rather than stand around and talk in the rain. At last the gatekeeper muttered, "All right, all right, come on in. You all are the strangest folk I've seen in Bree of late, and that's saying something. Too many queer folk around, that's for sure." He stepped aside and the group quickly went through. He pointed out the route to _The Prancing Pony_ and they made their way as swiftly as possible.

The gatekeeper's directions, though vague, proved to be enough for them to find the inn in a short amount of time. While the rain had slowed down to a drizzle, it was still very damp and chilly out so they hurried on inside.

It was warm and stuffy in the inn. They could hear numerous voices chatting, singing, and laughing, these together with the clanging of mugs and silverware creating a strange, chaotic harmony. They went up to the front counter and waited for someone to come to attend them. Jack leaned casually against it, glancing at Gibbs as his shipmate caught a glimpse at the amount of alcohol the establishment held.

"Good, some real drink!" Gibbs said with a grin.

Jack nodded and then turned to Elizabeth. "Since you still owe me for the bracelet, love, I think this may be a good time to pay off some of that debt."

Elizabeth, soaked to the bone and weary with travel, stared at Jack disbelievingly. He only watched her expectantly. While she usually would just ignore him, she was in no mood to argue, and so the woman pulled out her coin purse and gave him a few coins. He went to take more, but she pulled it back and put it away again with a withering glare.

When they were not attended to right away, Will called out. "Excuse me," he said to a man behind the counter.

A plump man, nearly bald and very red in the face, answered the call. He looked at them with unmasked interest.

"Good evening masters and ladies, what may I do for all of you? If you are seeking some rooms, we have plenty hobbit-like rooms available and two other rooms for you gentlemen and ladies. You are quite fortunate; you have the last rooms available! It is quite crowded tonight. We have some Southerns that came up the Greenway a couple of hours ago and some Dwarves heading west. But you are the queerest group I have seen so far, begging your pardon. We usually do not get folk from the Shire here in Bree and them traveling with Men is unheard of, begging your pardon. I am Barliman Butterbur by the way, owner of _The Prancing Pony_."

He said all of that very fast, almost in one breath. He ran off to get a drink for someone, but was soon back.

"What may your names be, masters?" he asked them.

Frodo spoke first. "This is Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took. I am Underhill."

"My name is Will Turner, and this is my wife, Elizabeth."

"I am Captain, mind you, Captain Jack Sparrow, and this is Gibbs and Anamaria, part of me crew."

Butterbur raised his eyebrows. "Well then, we still have only two rooms available, but you folks can decide on the arrangements. We have plenty beds, mind you." He looked over his shoulder. "Nob! Bob! Come here!"

Two cherry Hobbits came over to Butterbur. They looked at the strangers with open curiosity.

"Nob, take the hobbits to one of the ground floor rooms. Bob, you take the others to the extra rooms. Don't forget their baggage!"

They each led one of the groups to their rooms. The crewmates decided to bunk together, leaving Will and Elizabeth with the smaller room. Jack, Anamaria, and Gibbs were shown their room first, and then Will and Elizabeth were dropped off to a room right down the hall.

After Bob bowed and closed the door, Elizabeth sighed. She shrugged off her dripping cloak and threw it over a chair before collapsing onto the small bed. "This is the last thing I thought could ever happen to us. And to think we were planning our honeymoon but a couple months ago."

Will took off his own cloak and bent over to give Elizabeth a kiss on the cheek. "It is alright, my love. We will find our way home soon enough." She nodded and yawned, and Will gave her a small smile. "You should rest. It has been a wearisome trip. I am going to see the others; I imagine they will be heading down to the common-room soon enough to enjoy the inn's ale."

She nodded once more, and then frowned lightly. "When you see Jack, slap him for me. He's getting on my nerves again." Will nodded, hiding his amusement, and left the room.

He went over to his companions' room and knocked on their door. No answer. He knocked again, this time louder. No answer again. He slowly opened the door and looked inside. There were four beds inside, two chairs, and a table; it was empty. Letting out a heavy sigh, Will closed the door and headed down the stairs to the parlor.

When he arrived, he frowned. Just as he had suspected, the others were already at the ale and had not even bothered to wait for him. His want of drink, however, was stayed when he saw Frodo and noticed that the hobbit's hands were on his temple. The young man walked over and sat down beside him.

"What's wrong, Frodo?" he asked concernedly. "Are you ill?"

Frodo shook his head and replied, "I expected Gandalf to be here, but he is not. Now where do I go?"

Will nodded sympathetically but was unsure what to say. He ended up whispering, "Don't worry, we will find the way, even if Gandalf isn't there to guide us." Frodo shot Will a small smile.

"Thank you."

Sam whispered something in Frodo's ear, but the young man could not make it out. He saw Frodo casually glance at Jack, who was on his fifth mug of ale, Gibbs, who was sitting down on the bench racing him, and Anamaria, who was counting the cups and giving all the strangers around them the 'death glare' if they looked at her in any way that didn't meet her approval. Frodo looked over all of the cheery people in the room, and Will watched him stop and stare at something. The man turned his head to see what it was.

There was a man sitting in a shadowed corner of the parlor. He was hooded and cloaked, and Will could only make out his long legs, his boots heavily caked in dirt and grime, and a pipe that he was smoking. One look and Will did not trust him at all.

Frodo stopped Butterbur as he passed by. "Excuse me, but… that man in the corner, who is he?"

Butterbur looked to the corner and quickly turned back at them. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "He's one of them Rangers. They're dangerous folk, they are, wandering the Wilds. What his right name is I've never heard, but around here, he's known as Strider." With that, Butterbur walked away.

Suddenly the three of them heard clapping and cheering, and as one, they turned to see Jack with a smug smile on his face. Gibbs, apparently, had admitted defeat. He was currently leaning against his chair, his face completely flushed. Pippin was making his way towards the table, but Merry was nowhere to be found.

"Where is Merry?" Will asked Frodo.

"He stayed inside the room, and said he was going to go for a walk afterwards if the rain stopped," Frodo responded.

"It lessened up some time ago, so he may already be gone."

Their attention quickly turned back to the scene on the other side of the common-room as Pippin approached Jack.

"You didn't wait for me, you ass!" he said good-naturedly. "I was going to be merciful before, but now I shall beat you in our game completely! How many did he have, Anamaria?"

"Nine," she said as she drank from her own tankard.

"Nine!" Pippin scoffed. "A lad half my age could do nine." He called out for some more ale, and people gladly passed over several mugs, eager to see if the small hobbit could reach Jack's number. As he downed them, Jack started humming a tune. Once Gibbs heard Jack, he started to hum along.

"Oh no…" Will groaned, not yet tipsy enough to appreciate Jack singing. Frodo looked faintly amused, while Sam was caught in between laughter and bemusement.

"Oh, a song?" Pippin slurred after his sixth drink. "I do love a good song!"

"Then come up and sing with me!" Jack said suddenly. He stood and climbed up upon the table, pulling Pippin along with him. The Men, hobbits, and dwarves gathered within the common-room all loved a good song, and so they clapped and cheered for the two. A couple men shoved mugs of ale into their hands to encourage them.

Gibbs was still humming along as Jack began his song:

_We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot._  
_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_  
_We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot._  
_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

_We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack._  
_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_  
_Maraud and embezzle and even hijack._  
_Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!_

_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._  
_Yo Ho, Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me._

Pippin did not know the words, but he happily joined in with the 'Yo Ho!'s. Once Jack had finished, he bowed and the whole tavern clapped for him. Of course, they did not think that he actually was a pirate, but merely a strange, drunken foreigner. Pippin jumped off the table and swayed to the bar to have some more ale.

Jack also jumped off the table and swayed over to Will. "Didja like it, huh, didja?" he asked as he drank his ale.

Will rolled his eyes, stood up, and easily grabbed the tankard and took a swig of it. "The first inn we have come across on this trip and you start without me. Lout." He turned to Frodo and Sam. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be taking Jack back up to his room before he completely passes out." With that, he firmly grabbed the man's arm and started to lead him to the stairs. He was nearly there when Pippin's high voice rang out through the room.

"Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins! He's over there, Frodo Baggins! He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side, and my fourth cousin, twice removed…"

Will let go of Jack suddenly as he watched Frodo run over to Pippin, trip, and fall to the ground. He saw a glint of gold in the air and a sudden temptation washed over him: it was the Ring. He shook himself out of his strange thoughts as Frodo suddenly disappeared. Everyone nearby gasped and started speaking to one another in hushed tones, glancing at all of Frodo's companions with open suspicion. The whispers grew louder until the common-room was screaming with protests, demanding the barkeeper to come and explain what had just happened.

Jack sat down on a nearby chair, looking quite content. His eyes remained at the spot where Frodo had disappeared, the look in his gaze odd and unnatural. Will, not paying attention to him, pulled him up and went over to Anamaria and Gibbs. Jack plopped down next to Gibbs while Sam and Pippin came and joined them.

"What's all this?" Jack asked with a wave of his hand. Gibbs, who was not quite as red as before and looked a bit steadier than his captain, glanced around nervously.

"I think it was, well, you know, _it_," Gibbs said under his breath. "Like Frodo's uncle at the birthday party." Jack nodded in realization and sat back in his chair, appearing undaunted with the whole situation.

Anamaria looked grim as she glanced around the common-room and her companions. Will spoke in hushed whispers with Sam and Pippin, while Gibbs and Jack talked amongst themselves. As Butterbur came into the room, demanding to know what was going on, she looked past him and saw a tall, hooded man pushing Frodo up the stairs. Eyes widening, she grabbed Will's arm and interrupted his conversation.

"Frodo's bein' taken upstairs by some shady-looking fellow. I'm goin' after them." With that, she stood and quickly pushed her way through the bodies in the room.

Will frowned and turned to the dark corner where Strider sat. He was not there anymore. While he did not see the man taking Frodo, he was sure that the Ranger was behind it. Glancing back to the hobbits, he saw that they, too, were ready to dart after Anamaria. "Wait," he said quickly. "I think the man who took Frodo was Strider, and Butterbur was wary of him. Be careful and watch Anamaria's back. I'll take care of Jack and Gibbs and join you soon. There is only one way out of this inn, so he cannot take Frodo away from us." The hobbits nodded, and Pippin took candelabra while Sam took a stool. They quickly rushed after the woman.

Will sighed, glanced at Butterbur who was trying to calm down his patrons, and then back to Jack and Gibbs. "We need to get out of here," he said to them. "And you two need to sober up."

"Eh," Gibbs said, "the ale has a wonderful rush, but it don't last too long."

"I'm sure," Will said with a disbelieving look. "C'mon." With that, he pulled the two pirates up and led them to the front door of _The Prancing Pony_. With not too light a shove, he pushed them outside. "If a tall, cloaked, shady-looking fellow comes running outside with Frodo, stop him. And keep an eye out for Merry; he likely went out for a walk earlier." With that, he shut the door.

Jack sat down on the step, a relaxed smile on his features. Gibbs shot him a strange look.

"I may not be seeing straight quite yet, but I don't see what you're smiling about. We were given watch duty! You let _Will_ give you watch duty!"

"That's what he thinks," Jack said, leaning back against the wall. "Now, what are they doing inside, Gibbs?"

"Anamaria said something about Frodo being taken by some man."

"Exactly." The smug expression on Jack's face grew smugger. "They're going about doing hero work of some sort. Why in the world would I want to join in that when there are so many willing contenders? Besides, it was getting a bit warm in there."

"Ah!" Realization came to Gibbs quickly and he chuckled. "Still, we're looking out for Merry."

"Much easier than trying to deal with some hobbit-snatcher."

"True. You're a clever man, Jack."

"'Course I am. Though you were sadly right about the drink. That ale has a great rush, but it goes away much too fast. I miss my rum."

"Aye," Gibbs agreed. "You sober then, Captain?"

"Eh. Somewhere. Not as drunk as Will thinks I am, that's fer sure."

"You're still slurring."

"Just as much as you are, you old dog."

"I suppose so." Gibbs sighed, looking down the road. "Now what do we do?"

"Sit, relax, and let the others do the work. Now you keep an eye out for Merry." He pulled his hat over his eyes as Gibbs sighed again and did as ordered.

O0O0O0O

Anamaria rushed up the stairs, checking every room quickly but shutting the doors quietly, wishing to go for a more stealthy approach. She hoped that the man did not lock the door behind him; that would make things more difficult than necessary.

At the end of the hall in the room that Nob had pointed out as a private parlor, she heard voices coming through the door. When she heard Frodo's voice, she drew her sword and threw the door open. She came face to face with a tall, dark-haired man who had his own gleaming sword pointed towards her. He seemed slightly startled at her appearance, but quickly masked his expression. She glanced behind him and saw Frodo; to her relief, he looked unharmed.

"You give 'im back, you lousy dog," she muttered darkly. "You won't leave this inn with 'im."

"I had no intentions of doing such a thing," the man said, slightly lowering his sword as he studied her. However, he raised it again when more footsteps came pounding down the hallway. Anamaria quickly glanced down the hall as well, not keeping her eyes long from the stranger. She was relieved to see it was only Sam and Pippin, though she was slightly amused to see their weapons.

"'fraid that won't help here much," she said in greeting. The hobbits' eyes widened at the sight of the swords.

"You let him go, Strider!" Sam said angrily. Frodo was silent, still in the corner of the room and looking at the scene as if he was not quite sure what to make of it.

"So I called here," he said, lowering his sword again and stepping back when he saw it was only the hobbits. "Nonetheless, just as I said to the lady, I have no intentions of taking Master Baggins anywhere without his consent." He stepped back again, lowered his sword to the ground, and looked back at Frodo. "I took you out of the common-room for your own well-being, Master Baggins. You may have not seen it yourself, but there were men in that room that were also looking for you; men that would not be so kind as to simply haul you away from the common-room." Glancing once more at Anamaria, he sheathed his sword and sat down, looking the most at ease out of all the people in the room.

Sam put the stool down and hurried over to Frodo, checking for himself to see if he was all right. "I'm fine, Sam," Frodo said, giving him one brief smile before turning to Strider. "The innkeeper warned me about you, and you have not shown me any reason why I should trust you."

"Good," Strider remarked, surprising everyone else by his reply. "You have been far too careless- you and your companion's antics have drawn far too much attention." Pippin suddenly turned away, guilt evident on his features. No one, however, said anything. Anamaria finally started to lower her sword, not convinced of his innocence, but a bit more confident that he would not attack them when outnumbered as such. She immediately raised it again, however, when footsteps pounded up the stairs and a door opened simultaneously. Strider, too, stood up, his hand on the hilt of his blade.

It was Will who came up the stairs and Elizabeth who opened the door from her room. "What is going on?" she asked Will as he passed. She followed his glance to the end of the hall, and when she saw Anamaria with her sword drawn, she immediately came out of her own room and followed her husband.

"So it is you, Strider," Will said contemptuously when he came to the parlor, his hand on the hilt of his sword. When Strider saw it was one of the hobbit's companions, he relaxed and sat down once more.

"It is I," he replied, "and before you attempt to kill me out of hasty judgment, I would have you listen to my words."

"Hasty judgment?" Will scowled. "It's hardly hasty judgment going after a friend who has been taken by some scoundrel!"

"Scoundrel?" Strider laughed quietly. "Perhaps, but as I said to Master Baggins, I mean him no harm. The common-room was dangerous after-" He stopped suddenly, glancing at the open door with suspicion. Ignoring the other six, he stood, looked outside, and closed the door quietly. "It was dangerous after Frodo revealed the thing he carries."

Anamaria's scowl deepened and she was ready to draw her sword once more. Will's grip on his hilt tightened, and Elizabeth glanced worriedly at Frodo. "What happened down there?" she asked, glancing between the hobbit and the strange Strider.

"An accident," Frodo said, his eyes still on Strider's lank form. "And you claim that you acted as you did for my own well being?"

Strider nodded. "You are not the only strangers Bree has seen lately. You and your companions did not notice it, but there were men not assaulting old Butterbur with complaints, but rather had their eyes peeled for you. The old gatekeeper and a few men of the company from the south, as well as that crook Bill Ferny, they all were spread about. You had already disappeared, so it wouldn't be too difficult for you to disappear completely from the inn now, would it?"

Frodo fell silent and Pippin looked particularly ill. Sam, however, was not convinced. "And you say that you're not a friend of those brigands! Why should we believe you?"

"It's quite simple," Strider replied. "I was alone with Master Baggins for a good minute. It would have been easy enough for me to take it and disappear entirely. If I had wanted to do so, we would not be having this conversation." Sam paled at the blunt statement, but still looked uncertain.

"Still, what is his business to you?" Elizabeth asked. "Who are you?"

"His business means a good deal to me," Strider replied. "And I am here at the request of Gandalf."

"Gandalf!" Frodo exclaimed in surprise. "You know him?"

"As well as anyone can know a wizard," Strider said with a queer smile. "But yes, I do. I spoke with him a couple weeks ago before he rode down South. He told me to come up here and watch the road for a Frodo Baggins and for any companions he may have with him. I did not realize it would be so many," he said, glancing at the others. "He told me that if he was not in Bree by the time they arrived, something had delayed him and that it would be up to me to lead them the rest of the way."

"To where?" asked Frodo.

"Rivendell."

"Rivendell!" Frodo said, slightly dismayed. "It is a long way to Rivendell."

"So it is," said Strider. "But you cannot stay here in Bree. These men in the common-room were mere brigands. You are being hunted by something much more dangerous."

"The Black Riders," Will spoke. His hand was not on his hilt anymore. Strider nodded, and was about to explain further, but footsteps suddenly pounded up the stairs and down the hall. They heard a door thrown open and a voice curse loudly.

"Bloody hell! Where are those lousy scabrous dogs?"

"Jack!" Anamaria threw the door open and raced down the hallway. She quickly came back. "Come quickly!" she shouted at them through the doorway, and then hurried back down the hall, the others following. They entered the pirates' room and on one of the beds lay Merry.

"Merry!" Pippin cried and quickly ran to the bed. Merry was awake, but very pale and out of breath. "What happened, Merry?"

"He was attacked," Gibbs answered grimly. "One of those hobbits who works for the inn was out on an errand and found Merry on the ground with a hooded figure above him."

"I was just strolling outside, just as I said I would," Merry explained. "I saw this cloaked figure, and, well, I was almost drawn to it, it seems. I followed him, and then suddenly I found myself on the ground with Nob shaking me awake. He told me that the cloaked man was over my body, but his shout of alarm had scared it away."

"When Nob brought him back, he looked like he could barely walk, so Jack and I took him up here," Gibbs finished.

Jack, in the meanwhile, was looking at Strider with a raised brow. "Who're you?" he asked.

"A friend of Gandalf's," Frodo said. Some of the others who were in the room during Strider's explanation of himself looked uncertain at the proclamation, but no one went against his word. "Do you think it was one of the black riders, Merry?"

"I think so," he said with a shudder. "I guess I'm lucky, then."

"More than lucky," Strider muttered, looking at the hobbit with an unreadable expression. "It is a surprise that the rider did not kill you and Nob right there and then; very surprising." He fell silent as he mulled this fact over. "They are using stealth for a reason, and whatever reason that is I doubt bodes well for your company."

"Do you think they may attack the inn?" Elizabeth asked.

"Perhaps," Strider said. "Nonetheless, I do not recommend the hobbits staying in their rooms tonight; even if the Black Riders do not attack the inn, the brigands are still about and I do not know how bold they are."

Will nodded. "We should all stay together, just in case; we do not want to be separated from one another."

"Aye," Jack said, a glint in his eye. "But if these fellows want battle, we'll be prepared to meet it."

In the end, it was decided that everyone would bunk in the room they were in now. While Butterbur did not look happy that Strider was with them and tried to talk Frodo out of associating with him, he finally relented and, with Strider's help, Nob and Bob helped bring the hobbit's luggage upstairs. Will and Elizabeth quickly retrieved their own luggage from the other room before joining their companions.

While Strider was gone, the others explained briefly to Merry, Jack, and Gibbs Strider's story. They all looked unconvinced, and even as Frodo repeated it, Sam was scowling.

"How can you be so sure?" Anamaria asked him. "He could be anyone. I still don't trust 'im."

Frodo was silent as he looked for the right words to explain to his companions what he saw in Strider. At last he said, "He scared me quite a bit, but I believe him. I think a servant of the Enemy would look fairer and feel fouler, if you understand me."

"Oh, he's foul enough," Sam muttered.

Jack shrugged. "I don't like him, but we do have the numbers if he decides to do something stupid. And, of course, I have my gun if it comes down to it."

"Is that what you call it?" Pippin asked, glancing at the strange weapon at his side. "That is what made that loud sound at the Ferry?"

"Aye," Jack said with a grin. "It's wonderfully useful."

"Nonetheless," Frodo started, getting the conversation back on track, "I do agree with him on one point- we cannot wait here for Gandalf, not with brigands and Black Riders roaming about. Rivendell is the safest place to go, and he claims to know the way."

"And so I do," Strider said suddenly as he pushed the door open, bringing up the last of the baggage. He put it on the floor before sitting himself on a wooden chair near the window. "Rivendell is a long way from Bree, and the roads will be watched closely. We will take ways that will be unseen by enemy eyes.

"Your rooms are now empty and your beds have been stuffed with pillows and other such things to form your bodies. Butterbur knows that something may happen and he is on the lookout tonight. Still," he turned to Frodo, "you and your companions should try and sleep. If you plan on having Strider be your guide, we will need to leave early, before the rest of Bree awakens." He then turned to the window and kept his eyes on the road outside.

Elizabeth and Will slept closely with one another on one bed, the four hobbits slept surprisingly well on another, and Anamaria and Gibbs took the other two. Jack pulled up the remaining chair in the room and set it by the door. "Just in case, of course," he said with a toothy smile to Strider. Strider said nothing and went back to staring out the window. Jack made himself comfortable, his hat resting over his eyes and his gun at the ready just in case Strider proved to be something other than what he claimed to be.

O0O0O0O

Hours later, shrieks came from downstairs and the hallway. Strider remained sitting, his eyes hard as he stared outside. Jack, who was pretending to sleep, suddenly jumped up and pointed his gun at the door. The rest of them woke with a start, and stared between Strider and Jack.

"What was that?" Will said as he fumbled in the dark for his sword.

"Sounded like Black Riders," Jack said, his gun still pointed at the door.

Frodo rolled out of bed and peered cautiously out the window. He saw five Black Riders outside of the inn; they quickly mounted their horses and rode off.

"What are they?" he asked Strider.

He was silent for a moment, but quietly replied, "They were once Men."

"Once Men? What's that supposed to mean?" Gibbs asked suspiciously. Strider glanced at him briefly before continuing.

"They were once great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one, falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will."

"Sauron is that evil maniac, aye?" Anamaria whispered to Elizabeth.

"I think so; I think he made the ring that Frodo carries," she whispered back.

Strider, with his acute hearing, heard their whispers easily. "Indeed he did," Strider confirmed. "He is the Dark Lord who nearly had the world under his domain until he was defeated in the Last Alliance. But now he sends his darkest servants to find that which he desires most." He looked out of the window once again. "They are the Nazgûl- Ringwraiths- neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One." He gave them all a keen glance, his eyes finally settling on Frodo. "They will never stop hunting you."

O0O0O0O

The next morning those who were able to fall back asleep woke up an hour before sunrise. As it was, most had merely brooded in their own thoughts until the hour; Strider had not even attempted to rest. They had a very quick breakfast, and after some discussion, the company decided to follow Frodo, who was set on following Strider.

Butterbur had thought them fools, but he sold them a pony for the journey for a very good price, and had Bob help them load the beast with some of their possessions. Sam fell in love with the creature right away, and decided to name him Bill. Along with the pony, Butterbur also sold them more provisions, and was able to find a more suitable traveling dress for Elizabeth, who still wore the fine (but now filthy) gown she was wearing when she first came to Middle-earth. Finally at sunrise, just as the rest of Bree was beginning to wake up, the ten companions left Bree and started heading east towards Rivendell, following this strange Strider and relying only on his word that he would do no evil.


	7. The Road to Rivendell

Chapter Seven: The Road to Rivendell

After leaving Bree behind, the company quickly left the road and now relied completely on Strider to lead them safely through the Wild. No one, not even Frodo, trusted him completely, and most of the others trusted him much less. At lunch Strider allowed them a small break, but afterwards they traveled on without stop. By the time the sun was setting everyone but Strider was feeling the strain of the quick pace he set for them. Will was half-supporting Elizabeth, who was subconsciously accepting it even though she had earlier told him that she did not need it. Jack was mumbling nonsense to himself and Gibbs was having a very intelligent conversation with the pony. Anamaria was walking at the rear of the group with the hobbits, who stayed as far from Strider as possible. Both she and Sam were busy shooting glares at their guide while trying not to fall too far behind.

Finally sensing their weariness, Strider halted at the borders of the forest. Before them lay a great bog that extended for many leagues.

Jack lifted his head and made a face of disgust. "What is that awful stench?" he asked Strider.

"We have just left Chetwood and approach the Midgewater Marshes," said Strider. "We shall travel through the marshes; it will not be pleasant."

"The smell comes from those marshes?" Elizabeth asked, looking east. "I have never seen a bog before."

"A first time for everything, I suppose," Will replied. "Granted, this is not an experience I'm looking forward to."

"Can't we avoid this stinkin' marsh and go to the road now?" Gibbs asked.

"You may if you wish," Strider replied, "but the wraiths will strike you down if you are in their way. Nonetheless, this is the road that your guide will lead you through." With that, he started down the hill that led to the edge of the marshes.

"Cheerful fellow," Jack commented. "An absolute delight."

Gibbs shot Jack an annoyed look. "I don't like how he's treatin' us, as if we're useless. Who died and made him king, anyways?"

Jack shrugged. "If Frodo goes with him, then I go with him." Gibbs looked a little bit startled by the answer; he knew the captain did not have any pressing desire to aid the hobbit, seeing as there was nothing beneficial out of it for him thus far. Jack, however, offered no explanation as to why he continued to follow him and did not pursue his own road.

O0O0O0O

For two days and nights they tread through the putrid, wet marshes. All of them, including Strider, were miserable with the conditions. Any animosity that Frodo's companions felt for Strider grew greater throughout those hours, and dark mutterings spread amongst them, despite Frodo's trust. Strider did not heed them; in fact, most of the time he acted as if his fellow travelers were not there.

Their second night in the marshes, as everyone was sleeping after another trying day of plowing through the thick, mucky waters, Elizabeth woke up to a soft singing. She turned her head and saw Strider sitting on a boulder, singing a tune in some strange but beautiful language.

"What are you singing about?" she asked him when she could no longer retain her curiosity.

Strider turned quickly towards her, as if startled; it was the first time she had ever seen him as such. He was silent for a moment, and at first Elizabeth thought that he would not answer her. Finally, he said, "I sing of the Lady Lúthien, the elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal."

She looked at him quizzically. "An elf-maiden? I did not know elves existed."

Strider shot her an odd look. "Why would they not?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "It is a long story. In any case, who are Lúthien and Beren?"

"Lúthien is remembered as the fairest elf-maiden ever born. Beren, a mortal, took her heart away."

"What happened to her?"

"Because of her love with a mortal, she gave up her immortality and died," he replied quietly, a touch of sadness in his voice. She was puzzled by his sorrow, but asked him no more questions that night.

The next morning, their third morning in the marshes, they woke with bitter thoughts aimed towards the lands they treaded through and the man who had led them there in the first place. Great clouds of flies swarmed all around them and bit at their flesh. Merry in particular was in a very foul mood.

"What do they eat when they can't get hobbit!" he asked bitterly as he swatted some on his skin.

"Rangers, I suppose," Will muttered under his breath. Elizabeth looked at him in surprise, but turned her attention back to her surroundings when she nearly tripped from the distraction.

"We only have half a day until we reach the end of the marshes," Strider called out to them. "Then we will make for Weathertop." He pointed to a lone hill at the end of a chain of mountains in the distance. "Only a bit further."

At the end of the day the company reached Weathertop. They were all quite thankful to get out of the marshes, and many in the group treated their guide a bit more kindly now that they were out.

Strider looked up at the hill thoughtfully. "This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl," he said quietly as if to himself. He then turned to the others. "We shall rest here tonight."

They climbed up the path that wound up the hill wearily, and before the sun had fully fallen, found a crevice in the side of the hill large enough to fit all of them. They threw down their packs and took the baggage off Bill the Pony. Gibbs threw himself down on the ground, panting heavily. The others did the same, thankful for rest.

Strider took one of his packs and drew out five swords. He gave one to each of the hobbits and one to Elizabeth. They unsheathed them and looked at them admiringly.

"They are for all of you," he said. "You may need them in the days to come."

"I do not know how to use a sword," Elizabeth said, slightly embarrassed by this fact.

"Neither do any of us," Frodo added.

"I am sure that the ones here who do know will teach you," Strider said to them, glancing at Will, Anamaria, Gibbs, and Jack. "Stay here, I am going to have a look around."

"Not without me," Jack insisted, stepping up. "Don't think it's wise to wander about alone; don't you agree?" What he left unsaid was that he, along with most of the others, was still unsure of Strider's loyalties, and he for one had no desire to be killed simply because he trusted someone too much.

Strider shot him a look, but did not protest and let Jack follow him. Once they were gone, Will started teaching Elizabeth the art of sword fighting while Gibbs practiced with Merry and Pippin, and Anamaria practiced with Frodo and Sam. After an hour of practice, it was too dark to train anymore and so they rested. Overcome by weariness from the journey and the practice, each of them fell asleep for a brief respite.

Frodo was distracted from his dreams by a smell of smoke- a smell that immediately alarmed him. He quickly sat up and saw Will, Gibbs, Sam, Pippin, and Merry by a small fire, cooking something in a pan. Elizabeth and Anamaria were right behind him, just waking up.

"What are you doing?" he yelled in slight panic.

"Tomatoes," said Merry.

"Sausages," said Gibbs.

"And nice crispy bacon," finished Pippin.

"We saved some for all of you," Sam said to them.

Frodo ran up and started jumping on the small fire, trying to put it out. "Put it out you fools, put it out!"

Elizabeth and Anamaria were up and screaming at the men and hobbits.

"What were you thinking?" Elizabeth shouted to her husband. "Have you no sense?"

"Who the hell is stupid enough to make a bloody fire when they're bein' hunted?" Anamaria exclaimed to them. She took the pot of water that they collected on their way up the hill and dumped it onto the fire, getting all of the males around it wet.

"Oh, that's nice! Ash in my tomatoes!" Merry screamed angrily at Frodo.

"Bloody woman, fussing about nothin'!" Gibbs snapped at Anamaria.

They immediately stopped bickering when a large screech pierced the air. Alarmed, as one they all turned to Frodo, knowing that what he carried was the reason their pursuers were here.

"Go!" he screamed, unsheathing his sword. The others did the same and went quickly up the path from the crevice. Bill did not follow them, being too frightened to do so. Soon they found themselves at the summit of Weathertop. They circled themselves around Frodo protectively. The top of the hill was covered in ruins and weathered statues of great people long ago, but the companions did not pay attention to the surroundings. As they stood there, swords drawn, they could feel a foreboding chill quickly fill the air.

_They_ were here.

Will looked straight ahead and an unnatural fear began to overcome him. Soon enough he appeared. It was one of the Black Riders that had been chasing them for days; one of the Ringwraiths that Strider told them about. Will held his head up high, sword in front of him. He would not let this creature of darkness take Frodo, no matter how greatly the fear took hold of him. And he absolutely would not let it anywhere near his wife if he could help it. Gibbs felt his hands shake, but mentally berated himself as he realized what other type of creatures he had fought in his life. Nonetheless, he could not completely control the panic in his heart. Anamaria bit her lip as her breathing quickened, willing herself to remain calm. Elizabeth felt particularly useless, not knowing much about sword work, and felt that the fear that overcame her was partially because of this. The hobbits were all shivering, deathly afraid of these creatures. They had never done or even seen battle, and felt more inexperienced than Elizabeth. Each one of them held their swords in front of them, not backing down from the threat.

There were now five Ringwraiths circling them. They were hideous, the most fearsome things any of them had ever seen. While they could see nothing more than black robes and parts of their armor, the fear that came from the creatures permeated the air around them. The Ringwraiths held out their swords menacingly, ready to slaughter them all.

"Back you devils!" Sam screamed, charging at them. After a few strokes a Ringwraith threw him into a wall, and he did not rise immediately from where he fell. Merry and Pippin tried blocking Sauron's servants, but were also shoved away. Will charged at one of the wraiths and they began to fight, the wraith finding Will a more difficult opponent than his hobbit companions. Gibbs took one to his right while Anamaria charged to one on her left. Elizabeth was the only one left with Frodo, a situation she feared would immediately turn ill. The young woman held up her sword defensively, not quite sure what to do.

A wraith easily knocked her sword aside, grabbed her by the neck, and threw her with great force into a broken wall. She struck the stone headfirst and immediately fell unconscious.

Frodo cried in pure horror as two focused all of their dark energy upon him, tripped, and fell down. He unconsciously took out the Ring and while he knew he should not use it, he could not help himself. He struggled against the voice that shouted at him to use it, but in the end, he put it on and disappeared from mortal sight.

O0O0O0O

Strider glanced thoughtfully at old prints with the light of a flickering torch. Jack honestly could not make out what he was looking at, so he stood back, little interested in the process. Rather the pirate played around with his gun, twirling it with honed practice.

"What do you see in those old marks?" Jack asked, becoming impatient with the man and his silence.

"Not much," Strider surprisingly answered. "There were a few people here not a few days ago, but I do not wish to wander too far from Weathertop to see where they went."

Suddenly, piercing shrieks ripped through the night air. They took one look at one other, immediately drew out their swords and ran up the path that went around the hill. They heard steel striking against steel at the top of Amon Sûl, and so they immediately went up the windy road that led to the summit. At the end of their path Strider ran ahead of Jack and jumped out onto the top of the hill. Jack was not far behind him when he saw five Black Riders, three of the hobbits, and Elizabeth against the wall. Two Ringwraiths were fighting against Strider, one against Will, one against Anamaria, and one against Gibbs. Frodo was nowhere to be seen. Jack's eyes widened and, while his instincts told him to get out of there while he still could, he surprised himself by ignoring them and jumped out to help Strider.

Frodo reappeared in a corner as Strider lit one of the wraiths' robes aflame. The Ringwraith shrieked and then lit the robes of the wraith that was fighting Gibbs. They both shrieked and ran off the hill, the fire consuming them.

Gibbs, Anamaria, Will, Strider, and Jack soon had two of the other wraiths shrieking in anger at the unexpected resistance and fleeing from Weathertop, leaving only one left. Strider took aim and quickly threw the torch at his face. The Ringwraith shrieked in anger and pain and ran away with the others.

"Nice shot mate," Jack said approvingly. Strider did not heed him, but instead ran over to Frodo who was breathing rapidly, his eyes clenched tight in pain. Sam was already with him, holding his hand and looking worriedly at his wound. Will ran over to Elizabeth, while Gibbs and Anamaria helped Merry and Pippin up. Jack glanced around, saw nothing else to keep his interest, and headed over to Frodo, Sam, and Strider.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul-blade," Strider said grimly as the blade dissolved, leaving only the hilt.

"What's that?" Sam asked frantically. "Will Mr. Frodo be alright?"

Strider's expression became even grimmer. "A Morgul-blade is no ordinary blade. If not healed he will turn into a wraith himself."

"That would be interesting," Jack said thoughtfully to himself, thinking about his own experience with the accursed gold of Cortez.

Strider shot the other man an incredulous look before his eyes became hard. He turned away from Jack and rather focused on Frodo, seeing if there was anything he could do for him. As he did so, Anamaria, Gibbs, Merry and Pippin joined them. They looked at Frodo concernedly.

Will came over soon after, Elizabeth in his arms. Strider briefly turned from Frodo to glance at the young man. "She lives," Will said, his voice monotone, "and she wasn't stabbed. She won't wake up though."

"I'll see to her when I can," Strider said. "But we have no time now. We must away, lest the wraiths decide to return." He sent the others to gather all of their supplies and bring the pony up to where they were while Strider wrapped Frodo in his own cloak. Elizabeth was lifted onto the pony and Bill's baggage was split between everyone else. Strider himself carried Frodo.

"You will see to her?" Will asked him as they split the supplies. "You have skills as a healer?"

"I do," said Strider. "And your wife should be fine. Frodo's wound, however, is beyond my skill to heal. He will need Elvish medicine."

With that, they began their journey once more.

O0O0O0O

Three days later they were in Trollshaws, a very wooded and mountainous region, but still the group had a day before they reached Rivendell. Elizabeth awoke a couple of hours after they started their trip, and when they were too weary to go on Strider tended her head injury. He found that she had a bad concussion and could not walk very well, nonetheless walk quickly for a long time. So it was that she rode the pony most of the time, and when the pony needed a break Will carried her as long as he was able and Bill carried a much lighter Frodo instead. Frodo was becoming worse as the days passed, and he was beyond the point of speaking to the others. His survival became more doubtful as the days went on.

On the third night, the group collapsed under the statues of three trolls. Frodo was awake, but unaware of the world around him. Elizabeth passed out from the incredible nausea some time ago, and now Will held onto her tightly. He tried to distract himself from the situation and instead concentrated on his surroundings. He looked up at the stone trolls, attempting a look of interest.

"What are statues doing all the way out here?" he asked to no one in particular.

Surprising, it was Sam who answered. "They were once living. When the sunlight touched their skin, they turned to stone." He paused and looked at Frodo. "Mr. Bilbo told me," he said quietly.

Strider, who spent the last few minutes watching their surroundings with wary eyes, suddenly turned to Sam. "Sam, do you know of the _athelas_ plant?"

"_Athelas_?"

"Kingsfoil."

"Kingsfoil, aye, that is a weed," Sam replied, slightly confused as to why Strider wanted to talk about herbs at a time like this.

Strider quickly clued him in. "It may help to slow the poison- hurry!" He handed the hobbit a torch.

Jack watched as they went off to find the plant, and then took a good look at Frodo. He was turning green in the face, was shivering despite being both close to the fire, and wrapped in three or so cloaks. The man seemed slightly disgusted at first, but then his heart softened and the look on his face slowly changed into something else- a look akin to pity. While he realized this a while ago, he finally admitted it to himself that this was nothing like the accursed treasure of Cortez; while there was the downside of being a skeleton half the time, there was no pain in the actual formation. It seemed as if Frodo was truly suffering and dying a slow, painful death. Jack frowned, exhaled, and decided to try to help the poor hobbit survive. In the end, Frodo certainly was not that bad of a guy, and Jack could not think of any particular reason why he would want him dead. Even the beautiful Ring did not seem to be worth his death.

He grabbed his effects and strode over to Gibbs and Anamaria, both who looked rather solemn. "I am going after Strider to watch his back. Keep an eye on him," he said quietly, nodding his head towards Frodo. Gibbs seemed surprised at the revelation, but nodded along with Anamaria. Jack nodded back and ran after Strider.

The man quickly went through the trees seeking for any signs of their guide. It took him a few minutes of searching, but finally he saw the flickering light of a torch. It had to be either Strider or Sam. He hurried over towards the light to join whoever it was, but before he revealed himself, he stopped in his tracks. His eyebrows went up in surprise at the scene before him. Jack could make out the form of Strider kneeling on the ground, and above him was a tall figure holding a sword to Strider's neck. Jack frowned, silently unsheathed his sword, and started to creep over to them. While he did not completely trust Strider, he trusted him more than this strange figure, and he planned to intervene in this attack. Jack was about to attack the figure from behind when he found a sword to his own back.

For Jack, this particular situation was a familiar one. Someone was always hunting him and he always had a sword or gun much too close for comfort. He turned slightly, trying to face his attacker. However, his attacker knew what he was doing and did not allow Jack to turn further.

"Put down your blade," a male voice spoke.

Jack rolled his eyes and decided to play with him. "And if I don't?" he asked, his back still to his attacker.

"Then I would be forced to kill you," his attacker replied.

"And who, my friend, would be forcing this?" Jack retorted.

The figure seemed unsure how to reply to the unexpected and outright bizarre question. Now was Jack's chance. He ducked and jumped back, now facing him. This maneuver usually worked and so he was surprised to see that the man had followed his moves quickly and now had the sword at his neck. The captain, however, now had his pistol pointed towards the other. From what he had seen in the hobbits' and Strider's actions, they had no idea what the pistol was capable of. Even though his attacker had a sword to his neck, he was history.

Fate, though, was not on Jack's side that night. He took a step back so the sword did not impale him as the man died, but as he did, he tripped over a tree root lying right in his path. He shot as he tripped, and the gun missed its target. His attacker jumped in surprise, shocked by the sudden noise, but quickly recovered and charged towards him.

At the same moment, Strider came crashing through the trees with a woman by his side. Jack was on the ground cursing to himself. The Ranger stopped the attacker with a quick word in a strange language before helping Jack back to his feet. The other man ignored the help and backed away from them, sword brandished.

"Strider, explain all this!" he yelled angrily. "One moment you have a sword to your bloody neck and the next you have a new friend!"

Strider chuckled slightly. He spoke something in a strange language to Jack's attacker, and the stranger stepped out of the shadows towards Strider. In the torchlight, the seafarer saw that it was a man who looked like a man, but at the same time looked nothing like a man. Now that he looked closer, the woman was the same. The observant pirate saw that their ears were pointed. Jack blinked in disbelief.

"What are you?" he asked.

The male man-looking thing spoke in the strange language to Strider once more, and Strider replied before answering Jack. "They are elves, Jack." The other's eyebrows went up to his hairline, but in the end, he sheathed his sword and put away his gun.

"Elves. All right, fine. Elves," he said nonchalantly. Tilting his head, the man took one good look at them before making a face and pushing his way past them, nearly colliding into Gibbs in the process. Anamaria was right behind him, holding a torch and her sword.

Jack glanced at the sword in Gibbs' hands that had just nearly impaled him. "Watch where you're point that thing," he scolded.

"What's going on here, Jack?" Gibbs asked, completely ignoring the man's comment. He glanced behind him, eyeing Strider and the two strangers. "We heard a gunshot not a minute ago! Sam had just come back to camp and was scared witless by the chance that there may be a fight nearby while Frodo is going to the deep end."

"Strider has elf friends," Jack said.

"Elves?" Anamaria asked, stepping forward to get a better look.

"Elves. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be making my way back to reality." Jack left the group and headed back to camp.

Gibbs looked flabbergasted. "Elves?"

Strider and his companions seemed slightly amused, but Strider only shook his head. "There is no time to explain now. I need to give this to Frodo," he said, holding up a plant. With that, he ran off.

The two elves quickly followed Strider. Gibbs and Anamaria shot each other a look before they followed them.

O0O0O0O

"I am Glorfindel of the House of Elrond, and my companion is Arwen, daughter to Elrond of Rivendell," the male elf said in greeting when everyone was under the stone trolls once more. "We heard of your coming and went to find you."

"We have been searching for two days," Arwen added. "We did not realize that so many of you would be traveling together."

"It is quite a long story," Will explained, trying to get used to the fact that he was speaking with elves. "I am honored to make your acquaintances Lady Arwen, Lord Glorfindel. I am William Turner, and this is my wife, Elizabeth," he said, smiling down at her. She regained consciousness just before Sam had come back with his own findings of kingsfoil, and the scent of crushed _athelas_ was helping her pounding head and nausea greatly. Strider had just crushed it in a pot of water that was just finished boiling over the fire. He tended Frodo to the best of his ability while they made brief greetings. Sam, Merry, and Pippin were gathered around him, too concerned about Frodo to pay much attention to the elves for the moment.

"It is a pleasure," Elizabeth said softly.

Gibbs and Jack were still not quite sure what to make of the elves, so Anamaria, who was a little less perturbed by the creatures than her shipmates were, spoke for them. "I'm Anamaria. He's Gibbs, and he's Jack," she said, jerking her head in their direction as she spoke.

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," Jack muttered exasperatedly, but said nothing else. Gibbs nodded nervously to acknowledge them, but did not speak.

"_Odd fellows you have taken up with, Dúnadan_," Glorfindel said to Strider in the strange tongue. Strider only shook his head, still concentrating on Frodo.

"What language are you speaking?" Will asked.

"It is Sindarin, one of the elven tongues, though some Men use it even in these late days," Glorfindel answered. He glanced over at Strider, and then stood and made his way to him. He spoke hurriedly to him in Sindarin, and Strider responded to him in the same tongue, sounding short and agitated. Glorfindel put his hand on Frodo's brow and muttered in a similar-sounding tongue under his breath while Arwen watched both Strider and the other elf anxiously.

"We need to get Frodo to my father," she said suddenly once Glorfindel pulled away from the hobbit. The other elf nodded in agreement.

"I have done all I could, and you, Dúnadan, are much too weary to do more. He needs to see Elrond as soon as possible." The elf suddenly stood and walked away, saying, "I will prepare the horse."

Arwen sat down next to Strider. He closed his eyes and used more _athelas_ on the shoulder, but from what the others could see he was not getting the results he wanted. Arwen said something to him gently in Sindarin and took his free hand. Will noticed this and glanced at the two in surprise. Before he could think more on his sudden suspicions, Glorfindel came back with his great white horse, Asfaloth. Strider stood and gently put Frodo on the steed.

"Who is to go with him?" Glorfindel asked them.

"I will," Strider said.

"_I will take Frodo; I am a faster rider_," Arwen argued, switching to Sindarin by habit.

"_It is too dangerous_," Strider said, a hard look in his eyes.

Glorfindel approached him, and in the same tongue, said, "_Estel, you know she is a capable rider and swifter than I am. Let us not argue further_."

"_It is the only task I can best you at, my lord_," said Arwen with a small smile, and then turned to Strider once more. "_You need to watch over the rest of his companions, my love_."

Strider did not seem to like the decision, but nodded in agreement. Arwen jumped up on the horse and held onto Frodo. Her own horse, Rochamdir, neighed in dismay and Glorfindel comforted the beast. Arwen smiled at her steed and then spoke to Asfaloth.

"_Noro lim, Asfaloth, noro lim!_" she whispered. With that, the horse took off.

O0O0O0O

After a couple more hours of rest, the remainder of the group followed Asfaloth's trail. As they traveled they heard the shrieks of the wraiths and could not help but shudder at the screams. Elizabeth rode on Arwen's horse Rochamdir, a great steed but gentle with the ailing woman. The beast did not need to be led and followed willingly, so Will spent his time watching over his wife and the rest of the hobbits with the remainder of the group. Often Strider and Glorfindel would be at the front of the procession, quietly speaking with one another in Sindarin.

They tread through Trollshaws as quickly as they could in their weary state, eager to reach Rivendell by nightfall. They walked for hours with little food and no rest. It was late afternoon when Elizabeth's throbbing head suddenly exploded into a migraine. She held her head with both of her hands, muffling the groan that wanted to escape.

"Elizabeth?" Will asked, but the woman could barely hear him over the pounding of her head. "Strider, my wife is not doing well!"

She did not hear those last words, for she had finally passed out. The last thing she remembered hearing was the sound of running water.

* * *

A/N: When I originally wrote this chapter around 2004, I knew nothing about head wounds or concussions. When this was rewritten in 2008, I had gone through the rather nasty experience of seeing a loved one go through a very, very bad concussion. Her own health in the days after she got the concussion is mirrored in Elizabeth's state.


	8. Rivendell

Chapter Eight: Rivendell

Elizabeth woke up to find herself lying on a warm, soft bed. She wore a comfortable nightdress and her old clothes were clean and folded neatly on a chair beside her. The woman stretched and gently touched the wound on her head. It was bandaged and her headache had died down to a mere throb in the back of her mind.

She sat up slowly and looked around her, encouraged by the fact that the world was not spinning anymore. The woman found herself in what was certainly the most beautiful place she could ever remember seeing. The windows held no glass, but instead flowering plants crept into the room and emitted a heavenly scent. Around her, she could hear the songs of birds high in the trees and the singing of water crashing merrily onto stones. The room itself was whitewashed and unadorned, and there were several other beds around her. She looked over to her right and saw Frodo peacefully sleeping.

A door to her left slowly opened, and as she turned she was greeted by her husband's visage. When he saw her, his eyes lit up and he ran over to her, embracing her tightly.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" he asked her softly.

"I will be if you don't squeeze me to death," she gasped.

He quickly released her with an apologetic smile and looked deep into her eyes, happiness shining clearly in his own bright pupils. "You have been asleep for nearly a day. I am so happy that you are finally awake."

The woman smiled just as brightly as she straightened herself. Glancing at her surroundings once more, she asked, "Where are we?"

"You are in the House of Elrond, and it is nine in the morning on October the 22nd," a voice broke in.

Elizabeth looked past Will and saw a most unexpected figure in the doorway. "Gandalf!" she exclaimed with a smile, but then her face darkened. "Where were you, Gandalf?" she asked. "We were expecting you in Bree."

The smile on his face faded, and he fell deep into thought. Finally he said, "It is quite a long tale."

"I have the time," she insisted, not willing to let the issue go so easily.

He sighed as he walked over to her, and after the wizard pulled out a chair to her bed he wearily sat down. Will and Elizabeth looked at him curiously, and the woman almost regretted asking him about it, for his countenance had completely changed with her inquiry. Before she could retract her question, however, he stated, "I was being held prisoner."

Will eyes widened in shock and behind him he heard his wife gasp. "How? Where?" the man asked.

This time Gandalf shook his head. "All will be explained in due time," he said. "It is a long tale and I only wish to tell it once, and now is not the time. If you would excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Turner, but I should see Lord Elrond and tell him that you are awake." With that, he stood and left the two alone with the sleeping hobbit.

"Lord Elrond?" Elizabeth asked.

"He is the lord of Rivendell, this fair elven haven in which we reside at this very moment," her husband explained. "It is the city where Strider was leading us to. Thankfully he was true to his word."

"Speaking of him, how are the others? Where are they?"

"Sam, Merry, and Pippin are well in health, but remain distressed with Frodo in this state," he said, nodding to Frodo in the bed beside them. "He hasn't made any sign of awakening yet, and while there are many healers constantly in and out of here, he is still on the brink of death."

"Oh no…" the woman whispered. "I thought he could find help here, from what little I remember of the last few days."

"So did I, and apparently Lord Elrond is a renowned healer. Nonetheless, he has not been able to cure Frodo, though he does not seem to be getting any worse, at the least." Will sighed. "Strider has often been in here with Elrond, and while he's a hard man to read, I know that he is very concerned for Frodo. Sam is certainly the most worried, though. I came to visit you often, and he was always here with him." He paused as he glanced at Frodo in worry, but after a moment turned back to Elizabeth with a small smile. "There is one thing that I believe you would like to know: old Bilbo is here, as well."

"Bilbo!" said Elizabeth with joy. "We did not know him long, but he seemed most delightful. I hope to get to know him better while we stay here. But tell me about the others; how are Jack, Gibbs, and Anamaria handling an elven city?"

"Jack and Anamaria seem to have come to some sort of realization that the elves are not out for their blood," Will said with a chuckle. "Gibbs will take longer to convince, I think. He's been staying in his room for the most part. They have been asking about you and Frodo."

"Even old Jack?"

"Yea, even him, though he's not as obvious about it as the other two are. He did mention something about you owing him a bracelet."

"_Still_?" Will laughed at her slighted expression.

"Aye, my dear, still. Granted, he was off wandering the valley last I heard, so perhaps something here will make him forget about it."

"One can only hope."

O0O0O0O

Jack Sparrow was indeed busy exploring the valley that held Rivendell, avoiding the strange elves that inhabited it to the best of his abilities. It was not long ago that he came to the conclusion that they would not do bodily harm to him at any given moment, but their piercing gazes bothered him nearly as much as Gandalf's stare had in the Shire.

The fact that old Gandalf was waiting for them in Rivendell was not something he was very pleased about, either.

As it was, he was quickly becoming bored with his wanderings. While he was a man who could appreciate beauty when it came along, he was more of a man who appreciated the beauty of a well-built ship or a well-built woman; the leafy trees and flowering bushes held little interest to him.

As he strolled along a path right outside the Last Homely House the pirate saw Will in some odd elvish-looking clothes and a wig. Jack raised his eyebrows and approached him slowly, frowning as he looked at the costume. Will stopped and shot Jack an inquiring look.

"May I help you?" Will asked the pirate.

Jack ignored the question. "What's with the..." He pointed at the wig and clothes and raised his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" Will asked, clear bewilderment written on his face.

"This... _this_!" Jack indicated to the clothing and wig again. "The blond hair especially doesn't do you good, mate. Did you lose a bet or something?"

"I beg your pardon?" the other asked incredulously.

"Lose a bet. You look rather hideous; bet Anamaria made you do it, eh?" Jack crossed his arms and smirked as he looked his companion over.

Will looked affronted. "I do not know who you think you are, mortal-"

"Whoa, whoa," Jack interrupted. "I'm as mortal as you are, mate, and I can prove it rather quickly if you don't believe me."

"Jack?"

The pirate turned around and saw Will, dressed in his normal garb and without a wig, coming towards them. "Will?" Jack asked, and looked between the two Wills with a slight frown on his face. "This is interesting," the man commented to himself.

The Will in the blond wig went from angry to utterly bemused as he stared at the man who shared his face. The normal-looking Will stopped in his tracks and stared openly at what could only be described as his twin.

"This is very interesting," Jack said again, a small smirk playing on his features. He stepped in front of Will and bowed lavishly to the blond Will. "My apologies. I thought you were him. No hard feelings?" He put out his hand.

The blond Will looked at the proffered hand and then took it uncertainly, as if he was not quite sure what he was doing. Jack's smirk turned into a large grin.

"Wonderful. My name is Captain, mind you, Captain Jack Sparrow. He's Will Turner." He jerked his head in Will's direction.

The blond Will-look-alike nodded slowly, and then gave the man a short bow of his own. "I forgive you for your earlier actions. You mistook me for your companion and I can see why. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Legolas," Will said, still staring at him with a dumbfounded expression. "We have, err, very similar features. I can see why Jack made the mistake."

"So we do," Legolas replied, looking at the man closely. "If you will excuse me, I must be on my way." With that, Legolas bowed and left.

Jack glanced at the younger man and raised an eyebrow. "That was very interesting."

Will nodded in agreement. "Very, very interesting."

O0O0O0O

Two days later, a very weary hobbit finally awoke from a long sleep. The battle for his life was finally over, and the healers won.

"Frodo, you are awake!"

"Where am I?"

"You are in the House of Elrond, and it is ten o' clock in the morning, on October the 24th, if you want to know."

The hobbit opened his eyes to find his bedside quite crowded. Most of his companions were beside his bed, and as he awoke, the relief was evident on all of their faces. Frodo sat up and looked around him. His eyes finally strayed to an old man currently smoking a pipe.

"Gandalf!" he exclaimed, joy evident in his features.

"Yes, I am here… and you're lucky to be here too. A few more hours in the Wild, and you would have been beyond our help. But you have some amazing strength in you, my dear hobbit. Even the greatest of men could not survive with a wound like that for so long. But I must admit you were very, very fortunate."

Frodo frowned. "Why weren't you there to meet us in Bree? Where were you?"

Gandalf sighed. "All will be explained in due time." He fell silent, deep in his own thoughts.

"Gandalf, are you alright?" Elizabeth asked him. Behind her Anamaria was eyeing him with a strange look, as if she was not quite sure what to make of him.

Gandalf came back to reality. "Oh yes, I am fine," he insisted.

Suddenly Sam pushed through the crowd and came directly to Frodo's bed. "Mr. Frodo, I am so glad that you are alright," he said with obvious relief.

"Hello Sam, I feel pretty good. My shoulder is not stone cold any more. Soon enough, I am sure I will feel life in it again."

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you are still among us and are beginning to mend. You will heal soon enough," Gandalf said, smiling.

"Lord Elrond?" Frodo asked.

A lordly elf pushed his way through the crowd beside Frodo's bed. He smiled as he came to his patient. "Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins."

O0O0O0O

Later that afternoon a large group gathered in Elrond's study. Jack found himself the last to arrive, and there he saw that the rest of his companions from the Caribbean were there alongside their four hobbit companions, Bilbo, Gandalf, Strider, and a few elves. The only two elves who were new to him was a pair of twins, but it did not take a second look to guess that they were somehow related to Elrond and Arwen.

"Captain Sparrow, thank you for joining us," Lord Elrond said in greeting. "You know most here already, but I believe you have yet to meet my sons, Elladan and Elrohir." The elf nodded to each son in turn. "Now that everyone is here," he went on, turning to Gandalf, "you told me some interesting facts about some of our guests here that the rest of us would benefit from knowing."

"But, as I said, I did not tell all," the wizard pointed out. "That is their decision to make."

Will frowned, quickly understanding what he was coming to. "Didn't you tell us not to speak about our origins?"

"All in this room are friends, and some already know," Gandalf said, glancing briefly at Bilbo and Frodo before turning back to Will. "And beyond this room your story will not be heard by any."

The man nodded and glanced at his companions. When they did not show any objections to Gandalf's request, he briefly told the others how they arrived to Middle-earth. While the elves and Strider kept still, the hobbits who did not know their story were clearly amazed.

"I was wondering about you fellows, but I would have never guessed that!" Pippin exclaimed. "Even with that big ship that was in the pond down the hill from Bag End," he added. "So that was yours?"

"Aye," replied Jack with a smug half-grin that knew his face so well. "It be one of my ships."

"One of _your_ ships?" Sam asked, something like a mix of awe and disbelief written on his features.

"Yes; I commanded a whole fleet of them back in the Caribbean," he added. Gibbs stifled a cough and Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"The explanation certainly clears many of my questions," Glorfindel said. "_It explains some of their odd mannerisms, to say the least_," he muttered in Sindarin to Strider who was right by his side. Strider only nodded, but kept his thoughts to himself.

"What did you do back in your homeland?" Arwen asked them.

"I was once a blacksmith, but I just married Elizabeth recently, and her father is a man of great importance," Will explained.

"I was the commander of a great fleet of ships, and these two were part of me crew," Jack stated bluntly as if it were fact. Anamaria pursed her lips and Gibbs kept his eyes off Jack so he would not do something he regretted later.

Elrond nodded, though he looked unconvinced at Jack's tale. Nonetheless, he did not pursue it. "No one can say for sure what brought you to Middle-earth, but already you have proven helpful to Frodo and his kin. You may yet provide more aid in the future."

O0O0O0O

The night Frodo awoke there was a large feast in the Great Hall of Rivendell. It seemed that Frodo and his companions were not the only guests there. There were many elves from far away lands, such as Galdor from the Grey Havens and Legolas from the Mirkwood Realm. There were also dwarves, such as Glóin and his son Gimli, from the Lonely Mountain up in the North. There were also a couple of men from kingdoms far away.

All the guests sat up at the high table. When Will and Legolas came in, there were many mutterings about the remarkable resemblance between the two, despite the fact that one was a Man and the other an elf. Those who had yet to meet the pirates shot odd looks at them, especially at Jack, who by far looked and acted the strangest. Elizabeth, and more reluctantly Anamaria, came in dressed in formal elven gowns loaned to them by the elves of the valley. While Elizabeth quickly fell into the role of a lady, Anamaria looked rather uncomfortable and she would have preferred to eat at a table that was _not_ higher than all of the other tables. The dress, too, was unlike anything she had ever worn in her life, and she felt bare without her normal garb. The hobbits had on clean clothes and most were quite embarrassed at sitting up at the high table with all the great lords. Elizabeth and Will were used to it, as they had attended many such formal dinners within the last year, and Elizabeth all her life. Jack and Gibbs did not really care about where they ate, and Anamaria's hunger soon took over her discomfort.

They sat down near one another, finding some comfort with each other among all the strangers. While Frodo quickly engaged in conversation with a dwarf, the younger hobbits were unsure on what to do and so looked at the others for guidance. Elizabeth was talking quietly to Will; Jack was drawing out a detailed navel strategy plan with Gibbs using various utensils and goblets; Anamaria seemed too busy wolfing down her food to bother with talk. Merry and Pippin quickly took after Anamaria and began at their meal, while Sam quietly kept an eye on his master.

After a long, slightly chaotic dinner, everyone went back to their rooms to get some rest.

Everyone, that is, except Jack. The pirate instead went outside the Last Homely House and began to wander the paths around the valley, silently contemplating what he saw of the elves during the feast that night. After his meeting with Legolas, Jack concluded that only Glorfindel was a frightening elf and that other elves were nothing to worry about. It was another thing to convince Gibbs of this, but he did manage to drag his shipmate down to the feast with few complaints and no orders, and so he imagined that he was somehow getting to him. During the feast, he saw some elves at the lower tables becoming merrily drunk; the pirate then came to the conclusion that elves could actually be rather fun companions, if enough drink was available.

As he walked along a wooded, secluded pathway, wondering where he could find some more of the elvish wine served during the feast to keep the more stiff-necked elves entertaining, he suddenly heard voices. More importantly, he recognized both voices. Rather than leaving as a decent person would do, he happily let his curiosity take over him, crept over to a tree and climbed up. He crawled onto a large branch over a stream and a bridge and waited.

His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the owners of the voices, Strider and Arwen walked along the pathway. Their hands were intertwined and the look they gave one another was the same look Will and Elizabeth often shared. Jack could not help but smirk. Love: the only thing in the world that made a man more foolish than a tankard of ale.

The couple walked over to the middle of a bridge, right below Jack on his branch. They started speaking in Sindarin with one another, and Jack held in a sigh. Being unable to understand the language was not particularly helpful in the art of eavesdropping.

Finally Strider spoke in the Common Tongue. "You said you would bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people."

"And to that I hold. I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the Ages of this world alone."

Jack raised an eyebrow. Elves were immortal? Well, at least Legolas' comment at their first meeting made sense now.

He saw Arwen give something to Strider. It was a silver necklace that glimmered brightly in the moonlight; it almost looked as beautiful as Frodo's Ring.

"I choose a mortal life," Arwen whispered to him.

"You cannot give me this," Strider argued.

'_If you don't want it, I'll take the jewel_,' Jack thought to himself.

"It is mine to give to whom I will," Arwen quietly rebutted. "Like my heart." With that, they fell into a passionate kiss.

If Jack had any particular thoughts on the scene before him, he had no time to think them. As the couple touched lips, the pirate heard a crack. He looked behind him and saw the branch breaking. He gasped and tried to get off his perch, but was too late; the branch broke and Jack fell with it.

Arwen and Strider's kiss was interrupted by a loud splash. They abruptly broke apart and quickly looked over the edge of the bridge. They saw a large branch floating downstream, but before they dismissed their interruption to nature only, Jack stood up in the stream. Strider and Arwen were too surprised to speak. The pirate took off his hat and poured the water out of it. "Wondrous fair night for a swim, eh?" he called out to the two. Before they could respond, he pulled himself out of the stream and staggered away.


	9. The Council of Elrond

Chapter Nine: The Council of Elrond

The usually peaceful morning that surrounded the valley of Rivendell at daybreak was broken early by a heated argument from one of the guest bedrooms of the Last Homely House.

"This is ridiculous!" Elizabeth scowled at her husband, ignoring the fact that her head was pounding from her constant stalking around the room. "How in the world could you get summons to a council and I be ignored? This is an outrage! Do they not know who I am?"

"Likely not," Jack said as he casually inspected his fingernails.

Elizabeth's scowl merely deepened. "And how in the world did you- you, of all people! - manage to get an invitation while I was overlooked?"

Jack let out a loud sigh before he laid an arm around the woman. Elizabeth shrugged him off, but he did not look put off by the rejection. "Love," he started, "I am a _Captain_, and they know that I am a man of high ranking-"

"Because you never fail not to mention it!"

"-and that it would not be at all right not to invite the leader of this small company."

Voices rose in protests at Jack's last statement. Will, surprisingly, came to his aid.

"He was the one sailing the vessel when we came here, whether the ship belongs to him or not," the man pointed out. "And I am sure that the only reason I am attending is to both keep Jack in line and because I was of some use on our journey to this place."

More voices rose in protest at this comment.

"I don't need any looking after, boy-"

"Oh, so I did nothing against those Ringwraiths at that hill, is that what-"

"It's not my fault that I was thrown at a wall and-"

Gibbs, for one, looked rather unconcerned at the commotion. He was lazily lounging in a chair, quite content to simply watch and listen to all of them make fools of themselves. As far as he was concerned, the council was likely going to be long, a bore, and filled with elves; he had no desire to attend. As they bickered about their roles on the journey and the approaching council there was a knock at the door. The other four were too immersed in their argument to hear it, and so the large man pushed himself off the comfortable chair and opened it.

"Is there a problem?" Bilbo looked rather concerned as he peeked inside the room.

The squabble died down as they realized that there was another in the room. "No, there is no problem," Will said. Elizabeth glared at her husband.

"Oh, good," Bilbo replied, looking unconvinced. "Gandalf sent me to fetch you and Jack. The council is going to start soon."

"All right," Will nodded, and without another look at the others, left the room with the pirate.

"Don't worry, we'll tell you all the exciting details!" Jack called out to the others before he closed the door behind him.

Elizabeth glared darkly at the door before throwing herself into a chair. "Insufferable idiots," she muttered under her breath.

"Eh," Anamaria shrugged, plopping down right beside her. "I'm sure it's nothing special. It's bound to be long and tedious; nothing important, I'm sure."

"Nothing important?" Elizabeth glanced at the other woman disbelievingly.

"Eh, well, I tried," she shrugged. "Oh, c'mon," she said to Elizabeth's glower. "Let's go find some of the others. I'm sure they weren't all summoned to this super-important meeting. Maybe Merry and Pippin are somewhere around here."

"Oh, all right," Elizabeth sighed, pulling herself up. "Let's go find them. They're likely in the kitchens; it's near one of their meal times."

"You coming Gibbs?" Anamaria asked her counterpart. "I'm sure we'll find something interesting if you don't come!"

"Oh, fine," Gibbs grunted as he pushed himself up from his chair. "Let's go find something to do. I don't want to see too many elves, though!"

It was not five minutes after leaving the room that the three came upon Merry and Pippin; they were in the Hall of Fire and looking rather glum.

"Hey," Anamaria said in greeting and a slight frown, "What's wrong?"

"Frodo and Bilbo were summoned to some sort of secret council," Pippin explained. "We thought we'd be invited, too, but we weren't."

"Join the party," Gibbs grunted as he sat down beside them. "These two ladies want in rather badly."

"And you don't?" Merry asked, surprised.

"I don't trust these elves," Gibbs muttered to them.

Merry laughed. "What a silly notion! Why not?"

"They're... unworldly. Queer folk, and just unseemly."

Merry shook his head. "Well, they are a bit strange, I suppose, but they are good people- better than most, really!" Gibbs just shrugged in response.

"So if only Bilbo and Frodo were summoned, where's Sam?" Elizabeth asked.

"Went to find them, I guess," Pippin shrugged. "He didn't want to leave cousin Frodo so quickly after he just woke up, so I imagined he followed them as quietly as he could."

"Do you think he could have gotten away with it?" Elizabeth asked, a sudden gleam in her eye.

"Well, I guess," Pippin said. He met the woman's eyes and then laughed. "Oh, you aren't thinking-"

"Oh, I am. Rivendell isn't too large a place; if Sam can find this council by himself, we certainly can find it with all of us looking."

"What do you think they're talking about in there, anyways?" Gibbs asked. "What is so interesting about it?"

Merry lowered his voice. "I imagine it's about Frodo's Ring," he said. "We went through a lot of trouble getting it here, and it is rather important."

"What are they going to do with it?" Anamaria asked.

Merry shrugged. "I imagined it would just be kept here in Rivendell, but- but maybe not."

Elizabeth nodded. "Well, we won't find out unless we actually go and find where this council is being held!" She quickly went through her plan of action, and in the end, they split into three groups. Anamaria and Gibbs would search the first floor of the Homely House, Merry and Pippin would search the second floor, and Elizabeth would check among the various outside terraces of the House. They were set to meet back in the Hall of Fire in thirty minutes with their findings. Only after they found the actual place where the council was being held would they then figure out how to best get in without being seen.

Once the plans were laid out, the group split up. Elizabeth quickly made her way outside and kept her eyes and ears open for any signs of a meeting. It was not long into her search when she ran into Arwen.

"My lady," she said with a quick curtsey.

Arwen smiled. "Lady Elizabeth. You are looking much better this morning."

"I am feeling better, thank you," she said. The bandages were not around her head anymore, and through the workings of elven healing her wound was not very visible; in the end, there would only be a small scar to remind her of the event.

"Are you in need of some assistance?" the elven maiden asked. "You look as if you are searching for something."

Elizabeth was about to refuse her, but then an idea came to her. "My lady," she started, "I have been searching for my husband for some time; do you know where I can find him?"

"I believe he was summoned to my father's council," the other replied.

"I see!" Elizabeth said, immediately putting on a pretense of surprise. "Do you know where that is?"

Arwen raised an eyebrow. "I do, but there is no need to put on a pretense, Lady Elizabeth."

Elizabeth quickly gave up on the facade and sighed. "My apologies, Lady Arwen; it is just a very frustrating situation," she explained. "I was born in a high position and taught in the way of politics by my father; I am unused to being forgotten in important affairs." As was her manner, she continued by approaching the elf-maiden boldly. "Surely you, as a lady of high position, know what I am going through? Do you not feel that you should be there, as well?"

The dark-haired woman smiled softly. "Verily I know the affairs of state, but these affairs I can offer no aid in, which is why I decided not to attend."

"Whether I can offer aid or not is not the reason for my wanting to attend!" Elizabeth stressed. "Frodo is very dear to me, and while I am a stranger to this world, my husband and Jack are strangers as well; and yet they are there, and I am certain that my husband, at the least, will do his best to aid Frodo, if not aid in whatever decisions they make there! I wish to be beside him through it all. And I am not the only one; Merry and Pippin, too, want to help Frodo."

Arwen smiled grimly. "You are fortunate, having the ability to follow your beloved wherever he goes." Arwen's eyes darkened, but she soon shook herself out of the mood. "But now you tell me there are others? How many?"

"The five of us, and then there is Sam, though where he went I cannot say."

"Ah, Sam," Arwen laughed merrily at the mention of the hobbit. "He managed to find his way into the healing room when he was not supposed to be there; I would not be surprised if he managed to find his way into my father's council." Arwen looked around, and when she saw no one in sight, said quietly, "You were not too far from the place. Follow this path, and then turn to the right; quickly you will find the entrance on your left. There will be no one to stop you." She smiled and then bowed her head. "If you would excuse me, I have other things I must attend to. Until another time, Lady Elizabeth."

"Thank you, Lady Arwen," the woman replied with a deep curtsey. Arwen nodded her head in acknowledgement, smiled, and then departed.

Elizabeth quickly made her way back to the Hall of Fire, eager to tell the others her discovery.

O0O0O0O

"This is boring," Jack muttered to Will. "I didn't know that by 'council' they meant a history lesson."

Will nodded only slightly so as to draw as little attention to himself as possible. "I have no idea what they are talking about," he whispered back. "It does not make much of a difference to me, all of this. I'll help in any way I can, but I don't need to know all of this."

They were at the Council of Elrond, or so it was called. Many guests they recognized: Bilbo, Frodo, Gandalf, Strider, Glorfindel, and Legolas. Some they remembered seeing at the high table the night before, and only a couple of faces were new to them. One was another man, broad in the shoulders and firm in countenance. The most distinguishing part of him was the great horn at his side.

There were first introductions. Will and Jack's introductions were short and vague, earning them many curious looks from others in the council who did not know their story. The man with the horn they found out was Boromir from Gondor. When the council first officially started after the introductions, they both listened eagerly for news. After ten minutes, they realized that the council was going to be much longer and less interesting than they thought it was going to be. After two hours of the 'history lesson', events finally took a turn to the more interesting.

An old dwarf stood up and started to speak. "Many years ago, a longing kindled the hearts of our people. Some spoke of the halls of Moria, the greatest mansions of dwarves ever to come. Ah, how our hearts yearned for our home of old! One of my close kin, Balin, listened to the whispers and decided to go to Moria. He took with him my kinsmen Ori and Óin, and many others.

"At first, we received good news: they began working there as soon as they reached Moria. And then there was silence. No messengers came, no news, nothing. That was many, many years ago. We have not heard from them ever since. What befell them, I cannot say." With that, the old dwarf sat down.

Jack tapped his counterpart's shoulder. "You know what Moria is?" Will shook his head.

A younger dwarf then stood up and started speaking.

"Less than a year ago, we had a messenger. Not from Moria, but from Mordor." At this, the eyes of many of the attendees grew dark. Jack glanced at Will with a raised eyebrow. Sounded foreboding. "He was clothed in black and there was a fell air about him. He asked us of the Lonely Mountain to aid his master, 'Sauron the Great' in a 'trifle' matter."

Jack finally recognized one name in there. Sauron? Had not Gandalf said some time ago that he was some sort of Dark Lord? Will, for his part, was greatly reminded of a Ringwraith with the dwarf's description of the messenger.

"He asked us for news of hobbits. He said that his master was looking for a thief by the name of Baggins, who had stolen but a simple ring that he fancied." Jack and Will turned as one to look at Frodo and Bilbo; Frodo was shuffling his feet and Bilbo was shaking his head solemnly.

"Our reward, if we were to aid him, would be three of the seven dwarven Rings of Power and the whole realm of Moria. It we refused, things would 'not go well'. Dáin, the King Under the Mountain, said to give him time to think about the offer. The rider said he had not much time and rode off. He has been back two times since, and the next time he comes he expects an answer. That is why Dáin sent me, Gimli, and my father, Glóin, to Lord Elrond, who we heard is wise in this course of matter and perhaps could give us answers." Gimli sat back down.

Elrond nodded solemnly. "You were wise to come to me on this issue." He spoke on the history of the Rings of Power, how they were created, and so forth. He then spoke about how Sauron created the One Ring to control the world, and about a great battle called the 'Last Alliance' created to stop the Dark Lord from taking over Middle-earth, and what happened to the Ring after it was cut from his finger. Then he turned the tale to Bilbo, who told of his finding of a ring that ended up being the One Ring of Power, and how he gave it to Frodo. Everyone at the council listened intently to every word spoken of this tale.

Boromir suddenly stood up and the other council members turned to him curiously. "Forgive me, Master Elrond," he said, turning to the _peredhel_. "But I will now state my purpose here, as it now seems a good time." He then turned to the council. "I came here to Imladris to seek advice concerning a dream both my brother and I had. In this dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark, and there was growing thunder. But in the West, a very pale light lingered. And a voice, soft, remote, but clear, started to cry to me:

_Seek for the Sword that was broken;_  
_In Imladris it dwells;_  
_There shall councils be taken;_  
_Stronger than Morgul-spells._  
_There shall be shown a token_  
_That doom is near at hand,_  
_For Isildur's Bane shall waken,_  
_And the Halfling forth shall stand._

I do not know what those words mean, and I have come here to Imladris for counsel." Boromir sat down.

Strider stood up. He unsheathed a sword, which was broken near the hilt. "Here is part of your riddle!" he exclaimed, putting the sword on a pedestal. "The Sword that is broken is here."

Boromir shot Strider a mistrusting look. "What would a mere Ranger be doing with such a token?"

Will and Legolas stood up very rapidly, and Legolas quickly beckoned Will to speak first.

"I do not believe you should speak to him in such a manner," he started. "Though he may look like a distrustful vagabond-" Strider raised an eyebrow.

"-his heart proves your comment wrong," Jack surprising finished. Will looked at him, startled, and then sat down. Jack found himself just as startled; he did not say things like that, and certainly not on a whim. Where in the world it came from he could not even begin to guess.

"And he is no mere Ranger," Legolas stated, approaching Boromir. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Chief of the Dúnedain, heir to Isildur and to the thrones of Gondor and Arnor."

Jack's puzzlement was quickly forgotten as he heard this information. He turned to the other man, an odd light within his eyes. "Heir to two thrones? A king? Fascinating."

"An heir to the throne of Gondor, mayhap, but not yet her king," Boromir answered coolly. He sat down and shot Aragorn, Legolas, Will, and Jack an ill-favored look.

"Enough!" said Elrond, halting any comments that others may have wished to say in retaliation. "Boromir, you will now find the other part of your riddle! Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Frodo stood up slowly and reluctantly put the Ring down on the stone pedestal right next to the broken blade. Everyone present at the council felt a slight tug at their hearts when they gazed at the Ring. Those most affected by its power were the Men. Jack could not help but stare at the piece of jewelry. What a beautiful golden color it was… so smooth, so perfect, nothing like any other ring he had seen before. Boromir also felt a very great need for it, but for another reason; it was a beautiful, precious thing, of course, but if what Elrond spoke was true, the Ring could save Gondor.

"This Ring is a gift…" Boromir began. "A gift to the foes of Mordor! We could use this ring! Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy. Let us use it against him!"

"I beg to differ," Aragorn replied coolly as he turned his own gaze from the small, seemingly harmless item to the Gondorian. "The Dúnedain of the North have ever kept the people of the North safe. If we were not here, they would always be living in constant fear. Yes, you do protect and fight, but there are also enemies up here in old Arnor that we are constantly on guard against. It is a hard life.

"The hardest part is that we are not known. Travelers frown at us, and the countrymen give us scornful names. I am known as 'Strider' in the small town of Bree. But to know that these people are careless, happy, and free from fear keeps me from anger and despair. My kin and I have always lived in secret, and we always shall.

"The matter of where evil strikes aside, you cannot use the Ring. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone; it has no other master."

Boromir approached Aragorn, a strange look in his eyes. "You may be Isildur's heir, but you are only a Ranger. What does a Ranger know of such important matters?"

Bilbo suddenly stood up and approached Boromir, hands on his hips. It looked quite comical for a large man such as Boromir to back away from a small, old hobbit. But this hobbit was angry.

"_All that is gold does not glitter,_  
_Not all those who wander are lost;_  
_The old that is strong does not wither,_  
_Deep roots are not reached by the frost._  
_From the ashes a fire shall be woken,_  
_A light from the shadows shall spring;_  
_Renewed shall be the blade that was broken:_  
_The crownless again shall be king_."

With that, Bilbo went back to his seat. All of the council stared at him, clearly astonished. The old hobbit whispered to his nephew, "I wrote that myself, back when I first learned of the Dúnadan's true identity," but said nothing more to the rest of the council.

Finally Elrond spoke. "Boromir, we cannot use the Ring; its powers cannot be used for good and corrupts all to evil. We only have one choice: the Ring must be destroyed."

Galdor the Elf spoke for the first time. "What of Saruman the White? Why is he not here, to debate on the fate of the Ring? Does he agree to it being destroyed?"

Gandalf spoke up. "No, he does not believe it should be destroyed." Galdor was about to speak again when Gandalf held up his hand to silence him. "No, he does not want it to be destroyed. What he wants is to use the Ring to overthrow the Dark Lord, and then become Lord of Middle-earth himself."

To everyone but Elrond, this was news. They gaped at him, silent for a moment, before Glorfindel asked, "How is this possible? How do you know this, Mithrandir?"

"When I discovered that Frodo carried the One Ring, I at once sought council from the head of my Order, Saruman the White. I rode to Orthanc in Isengard, where Saruman dwells. I found out that he was using the _palantír_ of Orthanc and through that kept in touch with Sauron. He went too deep into the lore of the Rings of Power, and he used the _palantír_ too many times. I discovered this too late. Saruman asked me to join him in finding the Ring of Power and to capture the hobbit that carried it, but I refused. I was held a prisoner of Orthanc, at the top of the tower, where I could see Isengard overrun by orcs and everything within it being destroyed.

"However, Gwaihir the Windlord rescued me from Isengard, and bore me to Edoras in Rohan, where I sought help. There, Saruman's forces were already put into play. The King of Rohan was under his sway, and bid me to leave and to take a horse to my liking. I took Shadowfax, the finest steed that now walks this earth; the choice was much to my liking, but little to his. After a day of pursuing the steed, I finally tamed him and rode him here to Rivendell. I let him go back to his home in Rohan, and now here we are."

The council was silent for a moment, left speechless by Saruman's treachery. The strangers of Middle-earth were a tad confused by this Saruman, but they quickly realized that he was an important person, and that his betrayal was a terrible change in fortune.

"Saruman's treachery is indeed unfortunate," said Elrond, "but we must move back to the topic at hand. To be rid of Middle-earth's evil, we need to destroy this Ring. It cannot be used, as it will corrupt its user, nor hidden, as it will just be found again."

Jack kept silent, but secretly he disagreed with the elf's statement. What was the point of destroying it? It was a powerful and beautiful weapon.

"What are we waiting for?" Gimli suddenly asked. Without warning, he took his axe and hit the Ring right in the middle on the stone pedestal. His axe shattered at the impact and he was violently thrown back, landing roughly on the floor. As dwarves rushed to help Gimli up, Jack stood up, looking for the broken pieces of the Ring. He was rather surprised, and admittedly somewhat relieved, that the Ring lay still on the pedestal in one piece and sat back down. Will glanced at Jack and then back at the Ring, also amazed that it was not destroyed. While he could not admit it to himself, he too was a bit relieved by the results of Gimli's attempt.

Elrond shook his head. "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. The only way to destroy the Ring is for someone to take it deep into Mordor and cast it back into the fiery chasms from whence it came. One of you must do this."

The council fell into a dead silence for a few moments. Boromir broke it, saying, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gate is guarded by more than just orcs. There is an evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever watchful. 'tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

"I agree," Jack added. "His description of Mordor clearly shows that it would be complete suicide to even attempt."

Legolas stared at Jack and Boromir with disbelief. "Have you heard nothing that Lord Elrond just said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

"Jack, have you not been listening? Why agree with him?" Will asked his companion, agitated by Jack's argument and more by the fact that part of him agreed with it.

"Oh, and I suppose that you think you are the one to do it?" Gimli confronted Legolas, standing up to challenge him.

"Boromir, it cannot be used or even hidden; it must be destroyed," Aragorn added firmly.

"Yes, and what if Sauron takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!"

At this, the whole council exploded. Only Gandalf, the hobbits, Glorfindel, and Elrond remained calm. Elladan and Elrohir, who were sitting on either side of their father, whispered to one another quickly in Sindarin. Aragorn and Boromir argued heatedly, and Jack and Will were nearly screaming at each other. Soon Gandalf joined in the fiasco.

Frodo suddenly stood. "I will take it!" The council kept on bickering, at first not hearing his words. "I will take it!" They quieted down, and each individual gazed at him with various reactions ranging from surprise to sad acceptance. "I will take the Ring to Mordor, though… I do not know the way."

Gandalf sighed in resignation. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." He stood behind Frodo and put a hand on his shoulder.

Aragorn nodded. "Whether by life or death I can protect you, I will." He knelt down beside Frodo, taking the broken blade from the pedestal. "This will be forged anew, and when it is, Narsil will yet again fight against evil. You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," said Legolas, stepping in.

"And my axe," Gimli added, sending a piercing glare to the elf.

Boromir slowly approached Frodo. "You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

"And you are going nowhere without me!" Jack commented, lightly stepping through the crowd of people to Frodo. "We have been through a lot together, lad, and we can accomplish great things." Jack grinned at the hobbit, and Frodo just shook his head and smiled.

"I, too, wish to aid you in this quest," added Will, stepping up beside Jack. "You were kind to us when we first came here, and hopefully I will be able to repay that kindness," he muttered to the hobbit.

"And Mr. Frodo is not going anywhere without me!" a voice yelled from behind them. They turned around and saw Sam running up to meet them. He quickly made it up there and stood right next to Frodo.

"Indeed you must as it is impossible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not," Elrond said with a smile. Sam blushed a little.

"Oy! We're coming too!" a voice suddenly shouted. Merry and Pippin ran to the ten that were standing in the middle of the area. "You would have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry stated.

Behind the hobbits came out Elizabeth, Anamaria, and Gibbs. "If you think you're leaving without us, Captain, you thought wrong," Gibbs said with a raised eyebrow.

"I would never dream of doing such a thing," Jack replied with an innocent smile.

"And you, William Turner, if you thought you were going to leave without me, you thought very wrongly on the matter!" Elizabeth said firmly, her hands on her hips. "Were you really going to leave without me?" Her husband shook his head and smiled at his wife. Anamaria glanced at the two and rolled her eyes.

Elrond nodded. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

"Great," Pippin smiled as he looked up at the others. "Where were we going again?"


	10. Travels South

Chapter Ten: Travels South

For two months the newly created Fellowship of the Ring stayed in Rivendell. Elizabeth was gifted with a new bow, which she preferred over the sword Aragorn gave her on Weathertop, and she learned archery from many elves, including her new companion Legolas. She was both intimidated by his skill and attracted to him; his eerie similarity in looks to her husband kept her on her toes. The others were offered new weapons, but did not take any for they were accustomed to their own swords. Frodo was given the elven sword Sting by Bilbo, though the other hobbits kept their blades.

The group from the Caribbean was given a few pairs of new clothing more suitable for travel through the wilderness in the middle of the winter. Other than Elizabeth, who found a more suitable traveling dress back in Bree, the only clothing the others wore that was appropriate for northern Middle-earth's climate were the cloaks given to them by Tom Bombadil. After they began to wear their new clothing, they looked as if they belonged to that world- well, almost. Jack insisted on keeping the dreadlocks, the beads, the eyeliner that he carried in one of the many pockets of his coat (which he also took), and, of course, his hat. Other than warmer clothes, he looked just like his old self.

One day in December, Jack sat with Strider in the lower levels of Rivendell. They were watching Narsil, the broken sword Aragorn had shown at the council, in the final stages of forging. Will was often in the forges with Aragorn during the process, since his background made him interested in the process, but that day he was spending time with Elizabeth and the pirate had unexpectedly offered to accompany him instead. Jack looked on wordlessly at their methods; it was somewhat different from the little he saw of the process in the Caribbean.

Once the sword was forged and cooled, an elf gave it to Aragorn. He gazed at it admiringly and said, "I shall call you Andúril, Flame of the West."

Jack snorted. "Why do you name your swords?"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Why do you not?"

"Because it is downright strange." Jack paused as he thought about his words. "Then again, perhaps it's not such a bad idea..." He looked down at his pistol, which he always carried with him even while in Rivendell. He pulled it out and smiled at it. "I shall call you Bonnie!"

Aragorn, looking less than impressed, sheathed his new sword and walked away.

O0O0O0O

The Fellowship left Rivendell near the end of the year 3018 of the Third Age. Even though they were called the "Fellowship", some members of the Company did not get along that well with one another. Gimli and Legolas stayed away from each other as much as possible, their grudge against one another formed in the Council and still as strong as it was then. Jack had unspoken issues with Legolas and his uncanny resemblance to Will, and Will himself was not quite sure if Boromir was the right man to go on this quest. As it was, each member of the Fellowship was united in mood that day; they was about to set out and each one of them looked solemn. Bill, the pony that had joined them in back in Bree, was the only one of the Company who seemed unaffected by the atmosphere and remained content.

Others who were there only for the council left weeks ago, and so only elves and Bilbo were there to see them off. They could see Glorfindel, Elrond, and his children standing nearby. The crowd about them fell silent as Elrond spoke to the Company. "The Ring-bearer is setting out on a quest to Mount Doom. To all of you that travel with him, there is no oath, nor bond to go further than you will. Hold to your purpose, and may the blessings of elves, and men, and all free folk go with you."

"No oath to go further than you will?" Jack muttered to Will. "This should turn out to be interesting."

Will shook his head. "I thought that we were supposed to stick together. It sounds wrong that we may leave whenever we wish during such an important task."

Gibbs, who was right behind them, stepped forward and muttered, "Do you think anyone will leave?"

"Perhaps," Jack replied vaguely.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer," Gandalf stated. Frodo looked up uncertainly at his companions before stepping out of gate.

"Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?" Anamaria stifled a chuckle.

"Left."

The Fellowship went through the gate one by one, soon leaving only Will and Aragorn in the courtyard. Will, who had grown close to the other man over the last two months, was patiently waiting for Aragorn, silently wondering what was taking him so long.

Will followed the other's gaze and saw that it led to Arwen. While she was trying to remain stoic, it was obvious that she was distressed and could not look Aragorn in the eye. Aragorn stood there for a moment, gazing at her face as if he were attempting to engrave it completely in his memory. While he had seen the hints over the last few weeks, at this moment Will was completely sure that Aragorn was in love with Arwen, and she with him.

Aragorn at that moment turned and saw Will staring at him. He strode past quickly without acknowledging the other man.

Will finally turned away from the elven refuge and jogged up to him, a few of paces away from the main group. "What is the matter?" Will murmured, the concern in his voice evident.

"I am well," Aragorn replied. Will, not believing him for a moment, put a hand on his shoulder.

"I may have not known you long, Aragorn, but I know love when I see it. It is clear that you love her deeply and that she loves you."

Aragorn laughed bitterly. "If only it were that simple."

The other man frowned. "You two are in love with one another, and while she is the daughter of an elf-lord, you are an heir to a throne or two! It is a wonderful match."

Aragorn stopped and glanced at the other man, a strange look on his face. "You do not have elves in your world, do you?"

"None that I know about; what difference does that make?"

"A great difference, my friend." Aragorn shook his head. "I had not realized you did not know that elves were immortal."

The other man stopped in his tracks, stunned by the revelation. "Immortal? That would explain a few things, but I did not realize that at all. Still, could you not be married? I imagine that your death would cause her grief, but she still would have her family."

"It is not that simple. She has bound herself to me, and with that bind she gives up her immortality. She would have to leave her people and her family."

Will frowned. "I did not know. But you say that she has already bound herself to you. Why are you then not wed?"

The man smiled grimly. "Her father has decreed that she would marry no one less than the king of both Gondor and Arnor."

"A lofty title."

"I would give her no less." Aragorn smiled wistfully. "Still, I know that my beloved watched you and your wife and wished that it could be us." Will only nodded sympathetically, understanding well the feeling of longing.

"Hey, you two, are you coming?" Pippin called out to them. The two ended their conversation and quickly went to join the others.

O0O0O0O

They tread many miles throughout many days. In that time they began to learn more about each other, becoming closer as the days passed, and soon old grievances were forgotten, or at the least put aside for their quest. They walked swiftly through the wilderness, led by Aragorn who knew those lands well. At the rearguard was always Legolas, constantly on the lookout for danger. As the days grew colder and the winds became stronger, everyone was grateful for the warm cloaks that Elrond provided them for the journey. They ate twice a day, only lighting a fire when necessary, and were constantly on the lookout for spies.

One beautiful morning, just at dawn on their fourteenth day of traveling, the Company stopped to look out on the lands they were to tread.

Gandalf smiled. "We have done well," he said. "We have reached the borders of the lands which Men call Hollin. For forty-five leagues we have traveled by foot. We are near Khazad-dûm, the Dwarrowdelf, otherwise known as Moria, deep within the Misty Mountains, over there in the mists." He pointed to a long chain of mountains not too far ahead. "Right above Moria are the mountains of Celebdil the White, Fanuidhol the Grey, and of course, cruel Caradhras." He pointed to the largest mountain, right above Moria, which looked very foreboding even from where they were. "We make for the Dimrill Dale, a valley cut across the Misty Mountains. We will go through the Redhorn Pass, then down the Dimrill Stair to the Mirrormere, the waters of Moria."

"Dark is the water of Kheled-zâram," said Gimli. "It chills me to think I shall see them soon."

"So, in short, we are going over those mountains to some lake?" Gibbs asked, looking at the tall peaks with a frown.

"I suppose you could say that," Aragorn answered him.

"Where then after that?" Elizabeth asked.

"We make for the Golden Woods of Lothlórien, then to the Great River, Anduin, and then…" Gandalf paused.

"Then?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, and then to?" Merry repeated.

"To the end of our journey… in the end," Gandalf said quietly. "But we cannot look too far ahead. Let us now make for the Dimrill Dale."

A couple of days later they reached the Dimrill Dale. It was a steep passage to cross, but was not nearly as steep as the mountains that loomed overhead. The lands were rocky and overgrown with large shrubs and weeds.

On the second day of their journey across the dale, the Company was taking a quick mid-day break. Gandalf sat on a rock a bit away from the group, smoking on his pipe thoughtfully. Legolas looked out into the distance, keeping watch for his resting companions, and Gimli conversed with Gandalf quietly. Aragorn, Will, Gibbs, Elizabeth, Anamaria, Frodo, and Sam sat near one another, some eating, some talking to one another, and some quietly musing. Jack and Boromir were practicing swordplay with Merry and Pippin.

"Two, one, five! Good, very good!" Boromir stated as he practiced with Pippin.

"Your style is good, but how is your footwork?" Jack asked Merry as he practiced with him. Merry shot him a confused look. "I mean, if I step over here, where do you step?" Merry uncertainly stepped over to one side. "Yes, but with more speed, and don't look down!" Jack lunged at him and his blade accidentally poked Merry in the hand. Merry yelped.

"Oh, sorry-" Jack started, but was interrupted by a kick in the leg from Merry. He reflexively knelt when he was kicked, and then felt something jump onto his back, causing him to fall down; Pippin and Merry were now on top of him. Boromir stood a few paces away, laughing his head off while the others on the rocks chuckled at the sight.

"A little help!" Jack yelled to Boromir. Boromir, still chuckling, went over to help him, but instead was pulled down by Pippin and landed on top of Jack.

"Get off me!" Jack yelled to the three of them, trying to push the large man and two hobbits aside. When the two men started to succeed in pushing off the two hobbits, Gibbs went over and threw Jack back down, helping the hobbits keep the two men down on the ground. Anamaria was now laughing so hard that tears were forming in her eyes. Elizabeth leaned against Will, laughing into his side; her husband did not even try to keep a straight face. Aragorn chuckled, stood up and went over to help Jack and Will.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, that is enough," he said, trying to pull the hobbits and Gibbs away from Jack and Boromir. The hobbits looked at each other, grinned, and quickly tripped Aragorn. He landed on his back, grunting and dropping his apple in the process. Anamaria laughed so hard that she slipped off her rock and to the ground, but continued laughing nonetheless. Elizabeth now had tears in her eyes, and Will finally let his amusement burst out in loud guffaws. Frodo and Sam somehow kept their composure and only smiled at their companions, likely used to Merry and Pippin's antics.

Finally the group managed to calm down. Sam, who had forgotten the scene in front of him, was now frowning as he looked to the south; there was a large black cloud in the bright blue sky. "What's that?" he asked.

Gibbs, who had finally lifted himself off his captain, helped Jack off the ground. Jack muttered something that sounded like "mutinous dog" before he glanced southward. "Looks like only a wisp of clouds," he muttered, but even as he spoke he was not quite sure of himself- a rare occurrence.

"It is only a wisp of clouds!" claimed Gimli.

"But it is moving fast, and against the wind," Boromir said with a frown.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas yelled when he could make out the dark spot completely.

"Hide!" Aragorn shouted. He grabbed some of the baggage on the ground and beckoned Frodo to follow him. Sam put out their small fire and threw some of the baggage into the bushes. Legolas sprang lightly from rock to rock, made sure that the pony was hidden, and then hid himself. Gandalf, along with Gimli, lunged behind a rock while Boromir and Jack took Merry and Pippin and hid themselves. Anamaria and Gibbs saw that everyone was hiding, grabbed the remaining packs and hid behind some large rocks. Will grabbed Elizabeth's hand and they hid in some shrubs and weeds.

The crebain, which resembled large, black crows, flew over them just as the last traces of the Fellowship ever being there were hidden. The birds flew over for a moment, cawing loudly as they searched the area, and then soared away until they were only a black speck in the sky once more.

Anamaria crawled out of her hiding spot first. She took a large breath and frowned. "What was the point of that?" she asked. "They were birds!"

"Not just birds, but spies of Saruman," Gandalf clarified. "Now we know that the passage south is being watched by him. We must take the Pass of Caradhras." He pointed to the largest, nearest mountain to the north; it was covered in snow, and its ragged peak looked wicked.

"We have to go up there!" Pippin exclaimed in wonder and not without a small amount of fear. "Is there no other way, Gandalf?"

"There are other ways, but they are more perilous than the mountains. We must try Caradhras."

"This is going to be one long, miserable journey," Elizabeth muttered to her husband.

O0O0O0O

It took a day to backtrack and find the pass that went over Caradhras. Once they did start climbing, nearly all in the Fellowship soon wished that there was another path to take. By the time the snow was up past their ankles and closer to their knees, most of them were freezing and exhausted.

Frodo was right behind Boromir when, in his exhaustion, he tripped and fell. He rolled down the mountain to Aragorn, who stopped him in his path and helped him up. Jack, who was near Frodo when he fell, saw a glint of gold in the snow, and a sudden desire flooded his mind. The One Ring was lying but a few feet away, and this was his chance to see it a bit more closely.

However, Boromir was closer than he was, and the Gondorian grabbed the chain that held the Ring from the snow before he could make any sort of move. Boromir stilled and fell into a sort of trance as he gazed upon it. The Company focused on him and did not notice that Jack, too, was looking at the Ring rather than the other man.

"Boromir," Aragorn said, slight trepidation in his voice.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing… such a little thing…" Boromir whispered, his hand slowly approaching the Ring. Jack silently agreed with him. It was only a little golden ring. What harm could it do?

"Boromir," Aragorn said again, this time more firmly. Both Boromir and Jack fell out of their trance. "Give the Ring to Frodo," the Ranger said sternly.

Boromir uncertainly stepped over to the hobbit. "As you wish." He reluctantly gave it to Frodo, who took it very quickly. "I care not…" A short laugh came from his lips as he looked upon Aragorn and ruffled Frodo's hair as if he was a child. Will, who watched the scene with the others, glanced at Aragorn's hand and saw him take it away from the hilt of his sword. He paled slightly but looked away before others could see his face. Had the Fellowship already come down to that?

Jack turned away as well, keeping his eyes off Frodo and ignoring the siren call of the Ring that even now remained with him. One person, however, had seen the look in the pirate's eyes.

"Jack," Gibbs muttered to him when there were no others to overhear, "don't even bother with it."

"Bother with what?" Jack asked, a clueless expression upon his face.

"You know what I'm talking about. It's like the Aztec treasure. It brought no good to Barbossa and your old crew, and this certainly won't do you no good, either."

"Now why in the world would you think I want some gaudy old ring?" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Because I saw that look in your eyes, Jack, and I feel the same way you do!" Gibbs muttered quickly. "I want to take it and look at it and even wear it, but I know that I can't. I saw those Black Riders and what they can do. I heard stuff in that council. And all that I'm feeling proves it! It's black magic, it is."

"Hmm," the pirate replied noncommittally. "Sure you ain't imagining all this, eh?"

"You know I'm not!"

"Oh, yes, because your judgment is certainly the best I've ever seen," Jack bit back. Gibbs growled under his breath something inaudible.

"I'm not saving your skin if you try and take it."

"Oh, I never expected you to." With that, the conversation ended and they continued their trek with the rest of their Company up the slopes of Caradhras.

O0O0O0O

"It's… cold…" Gibbs whispered through chattering teeth. They were on top of the mountain, and to say that it was snowing a lot would be the equivalent of saying that Sauron was not a very nice person.

"Bloody weather," Anamaria muttered as she wrapped her cloak tightly around her body and trudged through the nearly waist-deep snow. "I'd like to go home now." Jack muttered curses under his breath as he pushed through the snow, Elizabeth was silent as she tried to think of warmer places, and Will was fulfilling his husbandly duty as he held her close while they slowly progressed on the snowy path.

"Gandalf, this is folly!" Aragorn yelled through the blasting winds. "We must turn back!"

"No! We can defeat the mountain!" Gandalf rebutted.

Fifteen minutes later, they had made little, if any, progress. The snow was tightly packed and difficult to push through, and the fast winds filled with flurries of snow only made their situation more difficult. Only Legolas seemed to be doing well. He ignored the snow-filled wind and lightly stepped on the top of the snow, barely making any marks as he passed.

"That… is… not… fair…" Anamaria muttered darkly, her teeth chattering with every word. Jack glanced at the fair elf, who looked as if he did not have a care in the world, and wondered for a moment if anyone would miss Legolas if the pirate 'accidentally' shoved him off the path.

Will pushed his way up to Gandalf, Elizabeth still close to his side. "We must get off the mountain! We cannot trudge through this any longer!"

Gandalf shook his head, but at that moment a shot of lightning burst through the sky and hit the mountain, and a great amount of snow fell down from above. Before they could move away, the large pile fell upon them, covering them all from head to toe.

Legolas was the first to emerge, followed by Will. He quickly helped his wife out of the snow as Jack, Aragorn, Gibbs, and Boromir helped the hobbits and Gandalf out. Gimli and Anamaria stubbornly managed to get themselves out of the drift without any aid, though both looked more murderous than before. Once all of them were free, Boromir shouted above the high winds.

"We must get off the mountain! We can make for the Gap of Rohan and take the West Road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan will lead us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argued. As greatly as he desired to get off Caradhras, he knew that Saruman would be an even greater peril.

"We cannot pass over the mountain, so let us go under it!" Gimli suggested. "We should go through the Mines of Moria."

They fell silent as they pondered this new road, and Gandalf fell deep into thought. Boromir shook his head in frustration when the wizard did not answer right away. "We cannot stay here!" he said, trying to keep Merry and Pippin warm. "This will be the death of us all!"

"Let the Ring-bearer decide," Gandalf finally decided.

Frodo looked at all of his companions and could easily see that even the great, grim warriors would fall to this cold if they did not leave soon.

"We will go through the mines," the hobbit replied.

Caradhras has defeated them.


	11. The Walls of Moria

Chapter 11: The Walls of Moria

The Fellowship trudged down the mountain, glad to be leaving the cold winds and snowy paths behind them. It was sundown when they reached the foot of Caradhras, and there they stopped for the night, building a fire and warming themselves despite the dangers it presented. None of the Fellowship slept soundly that night for fear of an assault; there were wolves close in the surrounding lands, howling at the night and searching for easy prey.

The next day they gulfed down a small, quick breakfast before turning to the road again. They quickened their pace for they were much delayed on Caradhras, and Gandalf feared that the wolves last night were no ordinary wolves. The easy chatter that often surrounded the party was absent that day as they wound their way south.

Gimli marched at the head of the group with Gandalf, eager to see Moria with his own eyes; the others in the Company were not quite as cheerful. Several of them knew Moria by name and of the rumor of the evil within, and those who were unfamiliar with the old Dwarven home were still wary, for even the name sounded foreboding. Foreboding or not, they kept up their pace and reached the walls of Moria by nightfall that very day. It took a great length of the late afternoon to go around the lake that stood in front of the wall, for the path was very narrow. Of course, the waters were shallow on the edge of the pool so even the hobbits could wade within them, but they felt an evil presence lurking within the dark pool and did not dare to wade in the water.

When they reached the other side of the lake, Gimli tapped the walls of the mountain with the blunt side of his axe, sometimes putting an ear to the stone.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked, glancing up expressionlessly at the stone wall.

"Looking for the entrance. Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli explained. "Even their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas asked mockingly, loud enough for Gimli to hear. Gimli muttered something dark under his breath while Elizabeth shared a glance with her husband.

Gandalf ignored their comments and looked up at the long stone wall, a dark, hard granite rock that seemed to stretch for miles. He looked around as if searching for something, but soon hurried on. Everyone followed him quickly, Sam leading Bill the Pony carefully on the shore behind them.

The wizard eventually stopped between two holly trees, taller than normal holly trees with great roots entangled in the stony ground and crawling into the pool. Jack unconsciously took a hold on his hat; the last incident concerning a large, mysterious tree was not one he liked to recall.

"Well, here we are at last!" Gandalf said, looking at the space between the two trees up and down. "Here the elven-way from Hollin ended. The West-door of Moria was chiefly used for the traffic between the Elves of Hollin and the Lords of Moria. Those were happier days, where there were still close friendships between other races, even elves and dwarves."

"It was not the fault of the dwarves that the friendship waned," Gimli said, glaring at Legolas.

"I do not recall it being the fault of the elves," Legolas retorted, glaring back at Gimli.

"I have heard both, and I pray for this journey that you two, Legolas and Gimli, would forget old quarrels and be friends!" Gandalf stated sternly, glancing at both the elf and the dwarf with a frown. The wizard then turned back to the gate and approached the wall. "The doors are closed and still hidden. I will need help in finding them."

"And what, exactly, are we _looking_ for?" Anamaria asked, looking at the blank wall skeptically. "Looks like an ordinary stone wall t' me."

"That's because they're invisible," Jack said slowly, as if he were talking to a slow child. "You may want to learn how to listen, love; it's a useful skill to have." Anamaria scowled darkly and forcefully pushed past him to take a closer look at the wall. Gimli and Gandalf were already there, closely inspecting it to see if they could figure out how it worked.

Aragorn glanced at Jack with slight exasperation before he turned to Sam, who held onto Bill's reins. "If we are to go into Moria, we need to release Bill. The pony will not enjoy the mines."

"But you can't leave poor old Bill behind in this forsaken place, Strider!" Sam cried, angry and distraught at the news.

"The mines are no place for a pony, even for ones as brave as Bill," Aragorn said kindly to the hobbit. "You will need to choose between Bill and Frodo."

"Bill would follow Mr. Frodo into a dragon's den if I led him," Sam muttered. "It would be nothing short of murder just to release him into the Wild, with all those wolves about."

"Bill is a smart pony," Elizabeth said to Sam sympathetically.

"He will find his way home," Aragorn finished, giving Sam a compassionate look. Sam tearfully and aggressively threw down the packs off Bill, and, with some help from Elizabeth, took off all the baggage and tack on the pony. Once he was bare, Bill stared at Sam mournfully, turned around, and slowly trotted away.

Gandalf was still at the wall with Gimli, studying it as closely as he did when he first approached. Finally he muttered under his breath, "_Ithildin_."

"Ithilwhat?" Gibbs asked and approached the wall himself.

"_Ithildin_: the script that covers the doors. It mirrors only in starlight and moonlight," Gandalf answered, looking up at the sky. Suddenly, the pale full moon showed His face from behind the clouds. The Company looked on in amazement and wonder at the walls when they slowly but surely started showing faint silver outlines. Soon the lines were very clear to see; they made the shape of two great doors and several symbols and pictures decorated both sides.

"Those are the doors?" Gibbs asked. He did not like the clear use of magic in the gate and took a wary step back.

"Yes, of course they are!" Gimli exclaimed, looking the doors up and down eagerly.

"How do we open them?" Will asked.

"They open from the inside, but from the outside doors like these usually take a password, or something similar," Gimli stated.

Gandalf approached the doors and read the script off the top of the doorway. "The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

"What do you suppose it means by 'speak, friend, and enter'?" Merry asked.

"That is plain enough," Gandalf replied. "If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open."

"You do know the password, right?" Boromir asked.

"No!" exclaimed the wizard. Everyone, except Aragorn who had known Gandalf long enough, was dismayed. Legolas' eyes darkened and Jack visibly exhaled, looking both bored and slightly annoyed.

Gibbs cursed under his breath. "Then why the 'ell are we here?" he muttered to himself, turning away from the glowing doors and looking out onto the dark waters. He knew water well, nearly as well as his captain, and he did not trust these waters. Something evil lurked within them, and he wanted to be gone from both its shores and the strange magic doors.

Boromir, too, was frustrated by the wizard's answer. "Then what was the use to bring us to this accursed spot?" he asked angrily, and before any answer could be uttered, turned away from the doors and sought refuge further away from the rest of the group.

Gandalf glared at the two of them, turned back to the wall, and put his crooked brown staff in the middle of both the doors. In a commanding voice he said, "_Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen_!" Nothing happened. He sighed, repositioned himself, and yet again with his commanding voice said, "_Fennas nogothlim, lasto beth lammen!_" The doors stood silent.

"Nothing's happening," Pippin boldly pointed out.

"Really?" Anamaria asked sarcastically, also growing increasingly agitated by the situation.

Jack glanced at Aragorn. "May have let the pony go just a mite too early, mate."

"He will solve the riddle within time," the Ranger rebutted.

Gandalf ignored the conversations behind him and pushed against the doors, muttering other spells under his breath as he did. He sighed in frustration. "_Edro, edro!_" he yelled. "Open, open!" The doors did not budge.

"What are you going to do now?" Pippin asked, voicing the majority of the Company's question but the only one with the bravery- or foolishness- to do so.

"I will knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took, and if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words," he exclaimed with great agitation. Gandalf then turned back to the doors, muttering other incantations in all the languages that he knew.

Half an hour passed but the scene outside the entrance of Moria remained the same, all the time Gandalf trying many different spells and incantations to open the sealed doors. Aragorn sat with Frodo and Sam where they quietly talked amongst themselves. Boromir remained alone, but his foul mood had passed and he now silently contemplated other matters. Pippin and Merry were gathered with Will, Legolas, and Elizabeth, murmuring softly to one another. Gimli mulled near the doors as he thought of some sort of password to open them, here and there speaking aloud in his tongue to see if the words worked. Jack, Gibbs, and Anamaria remained solitary, deep within their own thoughts.

"Why do you two look so similar?" Merry asked Will and Legolas. Legolas glanced at the man as Will shrugged.

"I find it quite strange. I have never heard of an elf being so similar in physical features with a mortal," Legolas commented as he studied Will.

"We don't have immortals where we live- well, none that are natural, I think- but I have never seen someone who looks so much like me, either," Will said. "I have heard that my father looked a bit like me, but he is dead and I am an only child."

"Not to mention you are two different species from two different worlds," Elizabeth pointed out with a raised brow.

"Speaking of that, do you think you could tell us how you came to Middle-earth again?" Pippin asked. "Maybe we can figure out something about how you got here."

Elizabeth quickly retold their tale, but for the first time included all parts of the tale; she did not believe anymore that these people would think her and her companions mad after all they had experienced. Legolas, who was told their story with Gimli and Boromir back in Rivendell once the Fellowship was formed, started as she described the man that appeared on their ship right before they lost consciousness.

"What was he like?" Legolas asked in the middle of their tale.

"Well, he was tall…" Elizabeth started as she tried to picture the stranger in her mind.

"He wore a lot of blue, and had sapphires on his robes," Will added.

"And he just appeared and disappeared out of thin air!" Elizabeth exclaimed. Legolas nodded slowly as he pictured the being.

"Who was he?" Pippin asked.

"We still do not know," Will answered. "I admit that I had forgotten about him; I had so many other concerns on my mind these last few months."

"I haven't," Elizabeth said. "He's been dwelling in the back of my mind ever since we got here. I wish I knew who he was."

"Ah, it's useless!" the Company suddenly heard Gandalf mutter in frustration. He dropped his staff on the ground and sat on a nearby boulder, his gaze unfocused. Several members of the Fellowship glanced at the wizard with dismay.

Boromir suddenly stood. "This _is_ useless! We should not be here," he said. "And how I hate this accursed pool!" He threw a stone into the water, which splashed and vanished, but at the same time there was a ripple and a bubble.

"Do not disturb the water!" Aragorn exclaimed, looking at Boromir with alarm. Jack watched the water closely, suspicion drawn over his features as Gibbs immediately stood and took a step further away from the pool.

Frodo did not pay heed to his companions; in the last minute he had walked up to the doors and was now closely inspecting them. "Gandalf? What is the Elvish word for 'friend'?"

Gandalf glanced at him, slight surprise and curiosity in his glance, but replied. "_Mellon_."

At that moment, the doors slowly swung outward, and everyone's spirits immediately lifted. They stood up, grabbed the baggage that they had earlier decided to take into the mines, and headed inside. Gandalf was the first to enter the mines, followed closely and eagerly by Gimli, who gladly lead the less eager elf into the darkness.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer-"

"Did you say beer?" Jack said with a glint in his eye. Gibbs and Will also looked interested.

"Yes, the best beer around! And of course, there is ripe meat off the bone!"

"Oh, that sounds good…" Gibbs muttered with a smile.

Gimli, heedless of their thoughts, continued. "These mines are the home of my cousin Balin- and to think, they call it a mine. A mine!"

Gandalf lit his staff by some unknown magic, and their surroundings filled with light. It was still dark, but they could dimly see a vast room that contained stairs leading upwards, deeper into the mountains. Among the grandeur of the dwarven architecture, however, was a grimmer scene: the floor was covered with rotting carcasses and skeletons of beings long dead.

"This is no mine, this is a tomb!" exclaimed Boromir, glancing around at the scattered dead with disgust and pity. Gimli cried in agony as he recognized that many of the skeletons were once his kinsmen. Elizabeth cringed, immediately reminded of her experience with the undead pirates of Barbossa's crew.

Legolas scanned the area and grabbed an arrow from one skeleton's chest to inspect it. "Orcs!" he cried, the weapon only confirming his fears.

"We need to get out of here, now!" Will barked, looking at Gandalf urgently.

At that moment, a scream suddenly filled the chamber. Everyone turned and watched as Frodo was dragged away by a large tentacle. They dropped their baggage and rushed out of the mines, weapons drawn. The men, Anamaria, Gimli, and the hobbits started hacking away at the many tentacles in the water. Elizabeth and Legolas stood back and shot arrows at the beast, Legolas, naturally, with a great deal more speed and accuracy.

The battle was not in their favor. As many tentacles they hacked and cut down, more kept on coming to replace them. The hobbits were already swept off their feet many a time, but still kept on coming back and did their best in the fight. Gibbs was now hanging in the air with Frodo, and the rest of those in the water were being beat at by half a dozen tentacles each; they were quickly becoming too fast for them to counterattack. The constant splashing of the water, of course, did not help their situation.

Jack was in the middle of dodging a couple of tentacles when an idea suddenly came to him. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner and then laughed aloud. The pirate quickly took out his gun and shot the creature in the head.

Everyone was surprised by the loud noise, especially those that had not heard it before. The creature let out a great cry, dropping both Frodo and Gibbs as he did. Frodo landed into Boromir's arms, while Gibbs landed on top of an unfortunate Will who did not scramble out of the way quickly enough.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf shouted as he himself ran in. The rest of the Fellowship quickly pulled themselves together and went in after him, Will shoving Gibbs none-too-gently in front of him as the larger man regained his balance.

The creature, though deeply wounded by the gun, was still alive and very angry. His tentacles chased after them as they went through the doors. He thrashed about his limbs as he looked for his prey, more eager now to destroy those that had disturbed him in his long, peaceful rest. The tentacles tore away the rocks of the mountain and sent them crashing down. The Company pulled each other out of the way as the tentacles and the falling rocks blocked the entrance. The light of the night disappeared and complete darkness surrounded them.

After the dust cleared, Gandalf was the first to speak. "We now have but one choice," he said grimly, turning on the light in his staff. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard; there are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world."

The group slightly shivered from the chill of the water that soaked them as Gandalf announced the obvious, a path that none of them wished to take. They grabbed their packs, saw that the way back was very much blocked as the wizard said, and looked up the first flight of stairs into the great mines.

"Quietly now. It is a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope our presence will go unnoticed," Gandalf whispered as he started up the stairs. With grim determination, the rest of the Fellowship followed him.


	12. The Long Dark of the Black Pit

In the movies, I know the right passage goes down, but in the books, the right passage goes up. I will be following the books because J.R.R. Tolkien knows Moria better than PJ. ;-)

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Chapter 12: The Long Dark of the Black Pit

The Fellowship had been wandering Moria for over two days now, and it was coming closer to three. They walked slowly and cautiously, making sure to keep to the thin path and avoid all the crevices that opened up to the thick darkness. They mostly kept quiet, for when one spoke aloud his voice made echoes in the empty chasm, and to disturb the silence could mean attracting unwanted attention. When they stopped, they ate and drank sparingly, for they knew not if there would be any setbacks in the journey to reach the eastern side of the mountains.

They now walked along a narrow path, their left side a steep, unaccommodating wall and their right side opening to a large, black abyss. Most members of the Company all but hugged the wall and remained as far away from the edge as possible.

Gandalf shone the light from his staff about them, looking with particular interest at the walls. They seemed to glimmer in the light. "The wealth of Moria was not in gold, nor jewels, but _mithril_," he stated, letting his staff hover above the abyss. Slowly and cautiously, everyone who dared to looked down. The light illuminated the chasm a bit, and they could see that it went down for miles and miles, past the sight of even the elf's keen eyes.

"_Mithril_?" Will asked. "What is that?"

"Pure silver, lad," Gimli answered as he looked upon his forefather's work in silent pride. "Rarer than any jewel or precious metal, _mithril_ was sought out by all dwarves and other races."

"Is this _mithril_ on the walls?" Jack asked with obvious interest, pointing out the shimmering glints of dust in the stone.

"Aye, but that's just a pinch of it," Gimli said, stoking the walls lovingly. "I wish I had my tools for this. Moria is the only place known in Middle-earth with _mithril_, and a good amount of it too!"

"We do not have enough time to mine anything, even _mithril_," Aragorn whispered, turning to face them. "Let us move on. We do not want to disturb anything within these mines."

They started to move again. "Bilbo had a shirt of _mithril_ rings that Thorin gave him," Gandalf said thoughtfully.

"Ah, now that, my friends, is a kingly gift!" Gimli said in awe.

"Yes. I never told him, but its value is probably greater than the value of the Shire, and everything in it," he said with a small laugh.

"Where is it now?" Anamaria asked, a glint within her eyes. She too liked her share of rich and valuable items.

"Probably still gathering dust in the Michel Delving Mathom-house, I suppose," Gandalf replied, chuckling as he shook his head.

"What!" cried Gimli with shock. "It should be on a prince, not in a museum of the Shire gathering dust!"

Gandalf shook his head again. "Well, we cannot worry about that now," he said. "Let us move on."

Elizabeth glanced at Frodo; he looked to be slightly troubled and she frowned. "Are you all right, Frodo?"

He abruptly came back to the present. "Oh yes, I am fine, Elizabeth," he said, and swiftly walked past her to join Gandalf. Her frown did not disappear, but she soon concluded that his strange behavior was because of the mines or the Ring, or both. She did not need any evil trinket to be bothered by area; even with the wizard's light to guide their way, the darkness of Moria felt greater and deeper than any darkness she had ever felt before, and she imagined it was the same with the hobbit. The woman did not long dwell on these thoughts, however, and rather concentrated on the path before her and the thought of the sunlight that would warm her once they were out of there.

Within half an hour the thin, precarious path ended, but soon found the Company found their way was littered with more crevices than in the days before. Thankfully, the light of Gandalf's staff made it so that none of these obstructions came to them by surprise. Without Gandalf, it would have been impossible to go through the mines, even with the torches that Aragorn, Jack, and Boromir held aloft. The crevices were simply too many and too sudden.

After walking a few more hours they came upon their first true hindrance. They came upon a crossroad that held three passages, all leading east. The one on the left went downwards, while the one on the right rose. The path in the middle ran fairly straight, or so it seemed to them.

Gandalf concentrated equally on each one, a deep frown etched on his face. "I have no memory of this place at all!" he said. The wizard lit up the doorways, looking for some sort of writing to tell him where each passage went. He saw nothing that could help him and sighed. "This is as good a place as any to rest; we have been journeying for a long time and all need it," he stated as he sat down. "I am too weary to decide now where we should go."

The Fellowship of the Ring followed his lead. Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli, and the hobbits took out their pipes as soon as they were settled. Merry and Pippin found themselves a small corner and quietly conversed with one another, glancing to their companions here and there. Gibbs, Anamaria, and Jack sat against a great slab of stone near Aragorn, who was himself deep within his own thoughts. The married couple found their own private niche in the great space that surrounded the junction. Elizabeth leaned against her husband and soon fell into a light asleep. Boromir and Gimli sat by one another across from Aragorn, both silent and lost in their own minds. Legolas was silently standing upon a rock, peering into the black stillness and observing things that only he could see. Gandalf was nearest to the three paths, his eyes upon them as he wracked his mind and tried to remember the correct passage. Frodo and Sam were near him, quietly talking with one another.

They rested for a total of six hours, some sleeping the whole time, some mostly silent, and others mostly speaking quietly with each other. Near after five hours passed, when Pippin and Merry had fallen asleep, all pipes were away, and everyone was silent for the moment, when both Jack and Frodo spotted something to the south. Frodo went to Gandalf while Jack walked over to Aragorn.

Aragorn opened an eye as Jack came over. The man sat down next to him, and the Dúnadan glanced at him questioningly.

"Are you in need of something?"

"There is something following us," Jack whispered, pointing down to where he had seen the movement.

Aragorn followed his finger. "Gollum," he simply stated.

"Gollum?" Jack quickly went through his memory, and his thoughts went back to the Council of Elrond and to Bilbo's tale on how he had gained the Ring. "You mean that creature that Bilbo took the Ring from?"

"Do not speak of such matters here!" the Ranger warned him. "But yes, it is him. He has been following us now for three days."

"Shouldn't we shoot him or something?" Jack asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm rather sure the elf could be of some use there, and if not, I can certainly put an end to him." His hand strayed to his gun.

"Nay, do not! Gandalf believes he will have some part to play before this is over, and does not wish for his death."

"That's... stupid."

"It is not my decision to make. Even if it were, I would not so lightly throw Gandalf's advice aside."

Jack looked as if he wished to argue, but saw the look on Aragorn's face and decided that it was not worth the effort. His frown did not disappear as he stood up and joined Anamaria and Gibbs, leaving Aragorn alone once more.

A short while later, Gandalf's chuckle suddenly filled the area. "Ah! It's that way!" he said as he stood up.

"Finally," Gibbs muttered as he yawned.

"What are you complaining about? You slept the whole time!" Anamaria snapped. She had found little rest in their journey through Moria and the lack of it made her moody.

"Barely," he snapped back at her. "Bloody woman."

The others ignored their quiet bickering as Gandalf explained how he had come to his decision. "The passage on the left smells extremely foul, and the one in the middle has an evil feel to it. The air does not smell so foul in the right tunnel. And it is about time we started moving up." With that, Gandalf took the first steps into the passage.

For eight long hours, without counting two short stops, they walked along the long, dark path. Steadily it rose higher and higher but otherwise remained the same. They came upon no more obstacles, heard nothing, and saw nothing other then the light from the wizard's staff and the flickering of the torches. At the end of the long, winding trail, the walls to their left and right disappeared, and they found themselves in a large, empty area and saw nothing but darkness. The lights they had showed nothing distinctive.

"I think I can risk a little more light," Gandalf muttered to himself. At that moment, his staff seemed to grow brighter, and suddenly a great amount of light burst forth; everyone now could see where they were. "Behold the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

They were at the edge of a long majestic hallway held up by rows of vast pillars that went on for miles past the sight of Man, dwarf, hobbit, and even elf. They were decorated with many runes, symbols, and designs showing the majesty of the Elder days. The roof could not be seen beyond the darkness, for the pillars also rose up for a great distance and Gandalf's light could not reach their end. The Company looked at the halls in awe. Even Legolas could not help but respect the amount of work that the dwarves had put into the Dwarrowdelf.

"Now that's an eye opener and no mistake," muttered Sam, looking at the place in wide-eyed amazement. "Did dwarves always live in these dark endless holes?"

"Holes! Holes indeed!" cried Gimli in protest. "Nay, these halls were once filled with sunlight! There are great windows on the mountainside and there are many shafts leading out! Why, these halls were as bright as the day outside itself!"

"Then either these windows and shafts are covered by the mountain, or it is night," Boromir muttered as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Both, most likely," said the wizard, sitting down. "We may actually see the morning peeping in, sooner or later. But for now you must rest, if you can."

And rest they did, for they were weary after the long hike. The Company was thankful to be in such an open place again after the length of the long, narrow tunnel, but soon they wished for the security of the hallway where there were walls on both sides. Despite their discomfort, each one of them managed to catch a little sleep before they continued.

Soon enough it was morning, and not just 'morning', but a real morning. The Fellowship could see the light peeping through inescapable heights, lighting the halls with pure sunlight, sunlight that everyone bathed in gratefully. They soon picked up their few belongings and started onwards again. The Company walked through the halls for a few minutes in silence, looking in wonder at their surroundings.

Suddenly Gimli stopped and gasped. He turned to his right and ran into an empty room that was so bright that it blinded everyone's eyes. Gimli did not heed the other's surprised words and shouts. Instead, he ran to a rectangular-shaped stone in the middle of the chamber.

Elizabeth was the first who followed the dwarf and was soon right behind him. Gimli was on his knees, moaning in grief. The chest looked so familiar to her that she nearly mistook it for something else, but a closer look revealed that it was not the chest that caused her and Will so many problems but a year ago. The others soon were standing beside her and Gimli, and her husband stood by her side.

"Will, this brings back memories, does it not?" she said quietly, brushing the top of the rectangular object with her fingers.

"But this is not just a chest; it looks more like a small tomb," he whispered, pointing to the runes on the lid.

Gandalf approached the tomb. He stood there for a moment before quietly reading off it, "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then. It is as I feared."

Silence filled the room. The only noise that was heard came from the grief-filled dwarf.


	13. The Bridge of Khazad dûm

A/N: This chapter is following the movie's interpretation because the battle scene is just too cool. Some parts, though, do follow the book, and some parts from the film were purposefully discarded.

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Chapter 13: The Bridge of Khazad-dûm

Silence filled the room, the only noise coming from Gimli. Legolas, only hesitating for a moment, laid a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, feeling deeply for him and his grief. The others bowed their heads in memory of Gimli's long-lost cousin, and Jack pulled off his hat in respect.

Gandalf's eyes strayed to a thick book on the floor, still held by a dwarf long dead, covered in dust and cobwebs. He gave his staff and hat to Pippin, kneeled down, and muttered something to the body before gently removing the hand from the book. He picked it up and set it carefully down on top of the tomb. Blowing off the thick layer of dust on the book, he cautiously opened it and slowly turned a few of the brittle pages.

"This is the Chamber of Mazarbul, the Chamber of Records," he muttered as he looked one of the pages up and down. "I cannot read much of this, but it seems that this holds the records of the dwarves that came with Balin for when they first reentered the mines. It continues for many years." He flipped to the end of the book, careful not to break the fragile paper.

Legolas looked beyond the door, a frown etched upon his features. "We must move on. We cannot linger," he muttered to Aragorn. Aragorn nodded in agreement, but was just as curious as Gandalf to see what the book revealed.

"I don't know what you're worried about," Jack said when he heard the elf's comment, looking at Balin's tomb with interest. "We've been here for over three days and haven't met anything." He deliberately did not mention seeing Gollum. "I don't think another short stop will hurt us." Legolas was about to retort, but Gandalf began to speak.

"They have taken the Bridge, and the Second Hall," Gandalf started as he read the last few lines of the book. "We cannot get out, a shadow moves in the dark… we cannot get out… they are coming." He closed the book and handed it to Gimli. "You had better give this to Dáin of the Lonely Mountain for further study, if you ever get back to him." Gimli nodded and carefully placed it in one of his packs.

At that moment, a crashing, earsplitting sound burst through the room. They spun around and saw Pippin standing not so innocently near a well with a skeleton missing its head. A moment after the head fell off, the body went along with it, plummeting into the well. It brought along a clattering chain and a dense bucket, altogether making so much noise in that quiet place that it must have alerted every creature lurking within a large distance.

After the echoes died out, the group let out a breath they did not realize they were holding. Gandalf, however, was furious. "Fool of a Took!" he exclaimed as he stalked over to him. "Throw yourself in next time and rid of us of your stupidity!" he spat, grabbing back his hat and staff from the hobbit.

Pippin felt terrible. He hung his head in shame, realizing that his action was yet another great mistake that could put his friends in danger. He, along with his other companions, had no more time to dwell on their thoughts, for at that moment drumbeats echoed about them. With the drumbeat came a chorus of screeches.

"Drums in the deep…" Boromir muttered, his hand straying to the hilt of his sword.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam exclaimed as he pointed to his sword Sting. Frodo unsheathed it and found that it glowed a bright blue. Gandalf unsheathed Glamdring, and it too was glowing.

"Orcs!" Legolas clarified for those who did not know what the glow meant, grabbing his bow from behind his back.

"Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn yelled to the hobbits, unsheathing Andúril as he did. Elizabeth, while she knew that she was not very experienced in fighting, stayed beside her husband as she pulled out her own bow. She would not run away when she could be of some aid. It was now time to put to test the skills she learned in Rivendell.

Boromir peered outside the doorway. Two arrows whizzed by his head, just missing him as they hit the door. He heard a great roar, moved back when he saw the owner of the roar, and slammed the doors shut. "They have a cave troll," he told the others with sarcastic enthusiasm. He, Will, Legolas, Jack, and Aragorn blockaded the doorway with old spears and axes they found on the walls and the floor of the room.

A moment later, the Company was prepared for the incoming attack. Gimli, with a murmured word of respect, climbed atop Balin's tomb, axe at hand. "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

The orcs started hacking away at the door. When a hole appeared in the wood, Legolas let an arrow loose and a painful cry went through the area. Nonetheless, the opening continued to grow larger. Elizabeth tried her luck, aimed for the now-larger hole, and released her own arrow, but missed.

"Might want to try aiming for the hole," Jack advised.

"What a wonderful suggestion," she shot back at him as Legolas fired again and hit another orc. The woman grumbled as she nocked another arrow on the bow. The hole was now larger and so she aimed once more and fired. To her surprise, it hit an orc right in the center of his head. She shot Jack a smirk and took another arrow from her quiver.

Suddenly the door was broken down and orcs swarmed into the small room, giving the Fellowship barely any time to react. The fight began.

Aragorn slew every orc that near him, and Andúril gleamed with an inner fire. Legolas used his bow skillfully, killing several orcs with just one arrow, and when the battle moved closer, his daggers did nearly as much damage. This was Jack's first orc attack, and at first he underestimated their skill and power. In the first couple of minutes of the battle he toyed with his enemies, but soon enough he was moving quickly and skillfully and did not show any of the horrid creatures mercy.

Once the orcs saw Elizabeth and Anamaria, several went straight towards them, shouting excitedly. Anamaria they greatly underestimated and she soon showed them just how much skill with a sword she had. Elizabeth glanced at Legolas every now and then, watching how he used his weapon, and trying to imitate his actions. Of course, she was not nearly as experienced nor as fast as the elf, and the creatures were becoming more numerous. In the end, she managed to hold her own with Will's aid; he would not let any orc too close to her.

The hobbits were doing well enough, considering how little practice they had with their own weapons. Because they were in the back, not as many orcs reached them, which proved to be helpful. Boromir and Gibbs swung their swords just as much as Aragorn. Gandalf showed his own skills with the staff and blade and almost none of his enemies managed to pass him. Gimli was furious and eager to avenge his kin's death, and so none of the orcs that came near him was spared from his cold, hard axe.

Then the cave troll came, and he was not a pretty sight. Large, grey, and unfortunately more intelligent than other species of trolls, it came in being led by an orc who held him with a chain. Said orc was soon killed by its club, and it soon became evident that both ally and foe were in danger from being attacked by the beast. Legolas and Elizabeth shot at it to no avail; his skin was simply too thick. Gimli hacked at it and only succeeded in making it angrier.

Jack quickly pulled out his gun, ready to save the Fellowship from the nasty beast. But suddenly an orc fell into him and the gun flew out of his hands. The orc was soon dead, but Jack had no time to look for his weapon. He cursed to himself but did not dwell on the lost opportunity. The man started to hew at the orcs once more, annoyed to see that their numbers were not diminishing, or so it seemed to him.

Suddenly a pained gasp broke through the sounds of battle, and those who were not currently being assailed by orcs turned to the noise. They saw Aragorn, who looked to be unconscious, but nearby was Frodo, who was leaning against the wall; he had a spear in his chest that was being held by the troll.

After their initial shock died, total chaos ensued. Will ran over to Aragorn to wake him up before he too was killed, but could not bring himself to look at Frodo. Sam was fiercer than ever before, killing many more of his enemies. Pippin and Merry jumped from a ledge to the troll's back and stabbed at the creature, hoping to penetrate the tough skin. Gibbs had lost his sword some time ago but did not let that stop him; he used his fists well, punching, choking, and breaking the bones of every orc he came upon. Anamaria had come to Elizabeth and they were now fighting side by side. Gandalf and Gimli were completely unstoppable and no orc crossed their path and survived. Jack, Legolas, and Boromir were filled with fury and slew all enemies that came to them.

Legolas aimed for the troll's mouth. Merry had been thrown off his back, but Pippin was still stabbing at the beast like mad. Pippin stabbed him in at the base of the head, and the troll cried out, its mouth wide open. Legolas shot an arrow into the mouth and it went through the brain, the arrow's tip emitting from the top of the head. The beast moaned a couple of times as the shock of death came upon him, but finally the troll fell to the floor, defeated.

The remaining orcs fled or were swiftly killed. Pippin was thrown off the troll's back as it fell and he shakily picked himself off the floor. Will managed to bring Aragorn back to consciousness while keeping them both safe and the Ranger slowly stood. Jack found his gun under an orc body, while Gibbs found his sword through an orc's head. They sheathed their weapons and ran to Frodo, who was still lying on the ground. Though they did not say it, they knew that he was dead.

Before they could inspect him, more drums and shrieks echoed up from another passage.

"Now!" Gandalf shouted. "Now is our last chance! To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

Aragorn picked up Frodo hastily, while Sam grabbed Sting, which was lying nearby. They ran through the doorway that the orcs had burst through.

"I'm alright!" gasped Frodo suddenly. "I can walk. Put me down!"

Aragorn nearly dropped Frodo in his amazement. "I thought you were dead!" he exclaimed.

"No time for explanations!" Gandalf cried over his shoulder. "Keep running!"

And run they did through Dwarrowdelf, as fast as any of them could after their wearisome battle. But it was not fast enough. Orcs were crawling out of hidden places from above and below, quickly surrounding them as a spider surrounds its prey with webbing. Soon enough they were encircled by a sea of thousands of orcs that leered and jeered at them. Grimly the Fellowship realized that they were looking at death.

Before they could begin the last battle of their lives, a great sound erupted throughout the area and a light burst in the darkness: it was the light of fire. The orcs started squealing and chattering in fear and they fled in terror, their former pursuit forgotten. Jack, Anamaria, Gibbs, and Gimli laughed at their cowardice, but the others turned to the light of fire that was growing brighter.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir murmured, looking at the light warily.

Gandalf, at that moment, seemed full of despair. Finally, he answered quietly, "A Balrog, a demon of the ancient world." At this news, Legolas' face became contorted with horror, and Gimli muttered 'Durin's Bane' as he gripped his axe even tighter. "This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf cried, and began to sprint in the opposite direction, the others swiftly following.

They reached the end of the long hallway, and Gandalf bid everyone through before him. He followed them and he allowed himself to take in deep breaths to curb his exhaustion.

Aragorn had been waiting for him, and he looked at him with concern. "Gandalf," was all he said, but he let his concern show.

Gandalf ignored the unspoken question. "Lead them on, Aragorn; the bridge is near." Aragorn shook his head in frustration, not used to retreating without a fight. Before he could make any sort of argument, the wizard ordered, "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here."

They had come to a great staircase. As they ran, Will tried to get some information out of Legolas. "What exactly _is_ a Balrog?" he asked as they ran.

"You do not want to know," Legolas simply replied.

They came to a gap in the narrow staircase. Legolas lightly sprang across it, and, with only slight hesitation, was followed by Will. Gandalf moved his way to the front and looked uncertainly at them on the other side.

"Gandalf," Legolas called to him, beckoning him to jump. Gandalf sprang across and was followed by Elizabeth, who was caught by Will. Anamaria jumped, and Gibbs, with several voices persuading him, went after her. Even as he landed, one could see that he was pale with some sort of fright and he avoided looking over the edge of the staircase.

Suddenly, arrows from a great distance came flying at them. Legolas was the only one who could see the orcs who were shooting at them, and he shot at them back, attempting to bring their enemies down. An arrow landed dangerously close to Sam's feet. Boromir, seeing that time was now even more of essence, grabbed Merry and Pippin and jumped over with them as the stones under them gave way and tumbled down into the darkness.

Aragorn threw Sam over to Will. He tried to throw Gimli, but Gimli resisted his efforts.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf," he said sternly, and without another word jumped across the gap. He just barely made it, and only did so because Legolas grabbed his beard and pulled him up.

Suddenly more of the staircase crumbled. Jack jumped back and grabbed Frodo as Aragorn pushed him up, but Aragorn had not enough time himself to grab a strong hold. As Jack pulled Frodo up, he saw Aragorn falling. The pirate dived and grabbed one of Aragorn's hands with his own. The Ranger hung over a great black chasm, the only thing saving him from death being the other man's grip.

Aragorn slowly slipped from Jack's grasp. Jack yelled to Frodo to sit on him so he would not fall, and put out his other hand for his companion to grab.

"Aragorn! Grab my other hand!" he yelled to him, reaching out as far as possible.

"It is impossible; I cannot! Save yourself," he yelled back, his hand slipping more.

"Oh, bloody hell, mate! You have a damned _future_ here! You can't just go and _die_!" Jack yelled back, trying to keep his grasp on the other's hand. "And I'm not telling your bonny lass that you kicked the bucket all because you were too lazy to lift up your arm, savvy?"

Despite how strange the words sounded to Aragorn, they gave him heart. With all his might, Aragorn lifted his other arm to Jack's hand. They grabbed each other, and with a newfound strength, Jack pulled Aragorn up.

"Bonny lass?" was the only thing Aragorn could say. He had heard many descriptions for Arwen in his years, and that was certainly not one of them.

Jack shrugged, but they then had no more time to chat, for more trouble arose. They had already realized it was quite impossible to jump across the gap now, for the others were too far away to reach. Before they could come up with some alternative plan, a boulder from unseen heights broke down from a shake in the earth, and it broke the staircase behind them, blocking the only other way out.

The sound of cracking rock broke out from beneath them, and Jack, Aragorn, and Frodo felt the ground move. They held each other steady as the cracking sounds grew louder and the floor began to move with any motion they made. They realized that they were balancing the island of rock that they were trapped on.

"Lean forward!" Aragorn exclaimed, leaning forward himself. Frodo and Jack followed his lead. Slowly, but surely, they started moving closer and closer to the others. Finally, they crashed onto them, Legolas grabbing Aragorn, Will grabbing Jack, and Boromir grabbing Frodo.

They ran down the rest of the staircase while the island that Aragorn, Jack, and Frodo were just stranded on crumbled and fell down into the dark depths.

After leaving the precarious staircase, they came to a hall similar to the one they were in before. It was much brighter and a great deal warmer now. After rounding a bend, they could finally see the bridge; it was very long and very narrow.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf yelled at his companions as they approached. They took his words to heart and flew across, careful not to look down as they did. They did not turn back until they reached the other side, and when they finally did, the sight before their eyes astounded them.

Gandalf stood tall in the middle of the bridge of Khazad-dûm, his staff and sword in hand. On the other side of the chasm was the fiercest, most terrifying creature any one of them had ever seen before. Thrice the height of Gandalf, he was a creature that seemed to be made of fire. He held a whip of many thongs in one hand, and a sword of flames in the other.

"You cannot pass!" the wizard cried.

"Gandalf!" Frodo yelled in horror.

Gandalf lifted his staff up, and a white light began to shine brightly at its tip. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, yielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire shall not avail you, flame of Udûn!"

At that moment, the demon brought his sword upon Gandalf, but the light blocked it. Both the light and the sword broke, and the Balrog screamed in fury.

"Go back to the Shadow!" he commanded. The Balrog answered this by stepping onto the bridge and pulling out his whip, whirling it around the wizard.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf cried once more. He drew his sword and staff together and struck the bridge. The Balrog grunted, took another step, and at that moment, the bridge crumbled under him and he fell into the black chasm and to his doom.

Gandalf exhaled wearily and turned around to join the others, but he was too slow. For at that moment the Balrog swung his whip and it grabbed the wizard's knees, tripping him and dragging him to the edge of the broken bridge. He staggered and tried to maintain a firm hold on the stone, but did not have the strength. Frodo made a run for him, but Boromir held him back, knowing the bridge could crumble under any of their weights.

Gandalf looked at his companions. "Fly, you fools!" he cried. He let go, and he was gone.

The Fellowship ran out of accursed Moria, pursued by both the orc arrows from the few orcs that still tried to stop them and a grief so terrible and tragic that it burned in all of their hearts. Their leader was gone.


	14. Lothlórien

A/N: Remember that Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Anamaria, and Gibbs are from the past in our world… probably in the 1600 or 1700s. Well, I am guessing around there… and remember, of course, that superstition was quite prevalent in those days.

* * *

Chapter 14: Lothlórien

He was dead. It was impossible to believe; their leader simply could not be dead. But he was.

The Fellowship collapsed upon the rocks that surrounded the eastern gate of Moria, and several of them let their grief overtake them. They did not heed the bright sun nor welcome it in their sorrow. Boromir held back Gimli, preventing him from going again into Moria for revenge, and he held back his own tears of rage and sorrow. The hobbits wept freely while Gibbs and Anamaria tried to comfort them. Legolas was silent and his face was dry, but his grief was clear. Will and Elizabeth embraced one another, Elizabeth's tears falling freely and her husband unable to hide his own anguish. Aragorn was silent, but one look into his eyes revealed that he carried the greatest pain for Gandalf's loss. He had known Gandalf more than all others of the Company and the wizard was one of his dearest friends.

Jack sat on a boulder alone, unsure on how to feel. He had never felt much emotion when someone passed away beforehand; respect, of course, but never deep grief. As it was, he had not even liked Gandalf all that much, so it certainly made no sense to him to grieve deeply for his fall. However, ever since he entered Middle-earth four months ago, something had slowly changed within him- something he could not explain, but certainly sensed. As the captain sat there, he soon discovered that, even if he was not on best terms with the wizard, he still felt a strange sort of heartache over his fall. He was not sure what to make of this sorrow.

After a few minutes of uninterrupted grieving, Aragorn bid everyone up. "Orcs will be crawling through these hills by nightfall. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Gandalf would not have us grieve for his sacrifice and only be destroyed right after." They wearily stood and started heading to the woods that they could see in the distance. They walked in silence down from the mountain and followed the river Silverlode, a shallow river that bubbled merrily beside them; no one in the Company heeded its happy tune.

Suddenly Gimli stopped and he turned around. He strayed away from the path as he looked to the north. "There lies Durin's Stone, and the still blue waters of Kheled-zâram! I cannot pass it without gazing at it. Come, anyone who has interest may follow." Aragorn halted, bidding the others to stop as Gimli went to look at the stone; Frodo, Sam, and Jack followed him.

They came upon an old stone, cracked and weatherworn, with many runes written upon it. Right by its side was a great lake, Kheled-zâram, or the Mirrormere. Its deep blue waters were entrancing, and it seemed, despite it being day, that stars were reflected on its glassy surface.

"It's a rock," Jack pointed out.

"'tis more than a rock!" Gimli cried. "This, my friends, is the spot where Durin of old first looked upon Mirrormere," he said proudly, looking upon the stone with awe. "Let us look into the waters before we depart."

They did as he bid and at first, they could see nothing, but soon enough the reflection of Caradhras and the other great peaks of the Misty Mountains came into view. They could not see their own reflections in the water.

"There is something uncanny about this lake," Jack muttered to himself as he stared into it.

"Come, let us depart," Frodo said, drawing his eyes away from the Mirrormere. The others did the same, and they went back to the rest of the Fellowship, deep in their own thoughts.

They walked on for many miles in silence, slowly but surely making their way to Lothlórien. Frodo began lagging behind as they continued on, finding it difficult to breathe. Even though he managed to avoid a mortal wound in the battle, the troll still did some damage to his chest. Sam was by his side, helping him as best as he could and making sure that the rest of the Fellowship, who were far ahead, were still in sight.

Will turned around and saw that Frodo and Sam were far behind. He tapped Aragorn's shoulder and whispered something to him. Aragorn halted the Fellowship and ran over to Frodo.

"I am sorry!" he cried, his voice filled with concern. "After all that has happened, I forgot that you were wounded. You should have said something. Come, we will stop over there, and I will look at you. We all need some respite."

They halted for the time being, thankful for having a moment to rest. They ate and drank while Sam made a fire and Legolas went to get some water. Once he returned, he put the pot over the fire as Aragorn bade him to.

Aragorn took from a pouch some _athelas_ that he saved from Weathertop. He crushed one leaf in the water over the fire, and soon enough a strong odor spread throughout the area, refreshing all of his companions.

He told Frodo to take off his shirt to inspect the wound; Frodo, however, was quite reluctant to do so. "I am fine," he insisted. "All I needed was some food and rest."

"No," Aragorn said kindly, but sternly. "We must see what that troll did to you. I marvel that you are alive at all." Gently he took off Frodo's old jacket and worn tunic, and once he did, he gasped and then laughed. Carefully he took a silver coat off Frodo, and held it up in the sun, its rings glittering in the light. "Look, my friends! So this is what became of Bilbo's shirt of _mithril_ rings!"

All looked at it in wonder. Merry laughed at Frodo. "You were carrying the wealth of the Shire under your tunic!"

Jack looked at it with interest and edged on over, touching the silver coat softly. "The wealth of the Shire, eh?" he said, his greedy nature making itself known. "What a pretty thing."

Aragorn laughed again and handed the shirt over to Gimli to hold, who looked at it with wonder and amazement. Frodo bore a nasty black and blue bruise where the troll had hit him with a spear, and his backside became scraped when he had hit the wall. Aragorn bathed the wounds in the warm, _athelas_-immersed water. When he was done, he gave the _mithril_ shirt back to Frodo.

"Wear it at all times, my friend. There may be a time when it saves you again," he advised the hobbit.

Leaving refreshed, the Company started again towards the golden woods of Lothlórien. Even though they had made good progress, they still had a ways to go before reaching its safe borders. After several hours of trudging through the wilderness, they finally reached the first trees of Lórien by sunset. The Fellowship eagerly ran into the woods, glad to be shielded by the high boughs from unfriendly eyes. But soon after they entered, the atmosphere of their surroundings changed. The air was heavy and the forest floors were clean, which was unusual for a mid-January wood. They saw, when they looked up, that the leaves were still on the trees but were a bright golden color.

Gimli had his hand at his axe and he quickly summoned all the hobbits to him, muttering, "Stay close, young hobbits! They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods: an elf-witch of terrible power."

Gibbs overheard his warning and suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Elf-witch?" Gibbs asked nervously. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am sure! All that look upon her fall under her spell and are never seen again!" the dwarf whispered back, just as nervous as the man.

"Then I'm out of here!" Gibbs stated, turned about, and began walking the other way.

Aragorn turned and glanced at his retreating figure, puzzlement etched on his features. "What is the matter? Why are you leaving?"

Gibbs did not spare the other man a glance, but rather surveyed his surroundings nervously as he went back the way they came. "I am not going into any place where there's a witch!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "You're a bloody yellow dog, you are."

"At least I'm a live yellow dog!" Gibbs retorted without turning around or breaking his pace.

Anamaria sighed loudly. "You won't be if you go back out there! There are orcs goin' to be comin' after us!"

"I can handle orcs; I can't handle any sorceresses, especially of elf-kind," he argued, still backing away. "I don't like that part about never comin' out again, either."

Aragorn began to walk after him, unable to conceal completely his exasperation. "Gibbs, I have been though these woods before, and I came out again unharmed."

"I am not going in there!"

"It's a bit too late now, for you are already on the outskirts of Lórien; you cannot turn back." Aragorn's pace increased and he reached the other man quickly. "And I will not lose another member of this Fellowship," he whispered sternly, keeping eye contact with him. "If you go back out there, you will only find death. You will not be harmed here if you follow my lead. Trust me."

Gibbs frowned, but after a moment of contemplation, he gave a short nod. "Fine. I will. But if that elf-witch puts a spell on me, you're the first one I'm comin' after."

Aragorn gave him a small, strange smile. "If she does put a spell on you, it won't be any spell that will harm you."

"Bah," he muttered, passing Aragorn and staying close to the rest of his crewmates. "I still don't like it here."

A few minutes later, a dozen arrows surrounded the Fellowship.

"Now I _really_ don't like it here," Gibbs muttered to his captain. "Wonder if they know about parley?"

Jack shrugged, but was looking at his captors with what could only be described as boredom. He was not very impressed; he had been in tougher situations before. Anamaria gave them her death glare and was just as impressed as her captain was. Will remained stoic and Elizabeth, toughened by the journey, was not much afraid. The hobbits were quite amazed by their speed, and after all they had been through that day, were not ready for the situation. Boromir muttered something inaudible, slowly reaching for the hilt of his sword. Gimli muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'I told you so.' Aragorn slowly held up his hands in a gesture of peace. Only Legolas had enough time and speed to get out his bow, but considering that they were surrounded, and he was the only one with a weapon ready, the odds were clearly against them. He put it away when he realized that elven archers surrounded them.

An elf made his way through the crowd surrounding them. He came to the front, and looked upon all of them with mistrust and doubt, especially when his eyes fell upon Gimli.

"Your mortal companions breathe so loudly that we could have shot them in the dark," the elf said to Legolas.

Legolas' eyes slightly narrowed and he quickly spoke to the other elf in Sindarin while Aragorn stilled his angry companions. "Ignore his words," he said lightly to Anamaria who looked as if she was ready to kill him. Jack still looked unimpressed, while Gibbs seemed even more nervous than before. Gimli growled something under his breath.

The Company anxiously waited for them to finish speaking; the arrows around them still made many of them rather nervous. Finally, the elf, who seemed to be the captain of the group, said a word that caused the elves under his command to lower their weapons. He then spoke in the Common Tongue once more. "Come," he said. "We will rest in the _telain_ for the night."

"The what?" Elizabeth asked.

"_Telain_," Legolas repeated. "Platforms in the trees. According to Haldir-" He indicated to the elf that had spoken. "-there is a large band of orcs approaching Lórien, and they thought, at first, that we were orc spies."

"Yes," Haldir said. "But when I saw one of my own kin within this group, no less than Legolas Thranduilion at that, I knew that you did not work for the Enemy. But come, we must leave the ground before the orcs come this way. You will sleep in the trees tonight, and tomorrow you will face the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien."

"How far up are these platforms?" Gibbs asked nervously. While he was not talking directly to the Lórien captain, it was he who answered.

"Far beyond the first branches; beyond the sight of Men, I believe," Haldir said, looking up. "Also beyond the sight of orcs, so we will be safe."

"Aren't there any lower platforms?"

"No, there are no lower _telain_. We would be in the sight of orcs if they were any lower. Now come."

Haldir whistled, and a thin, silver rope ladder fell from the tree nearest to them. It uncoiled and reached the ground, low enough for even the hobbits to reach. Haldir bid many of his men off, and all but two left. The three elves sprang lightly up the ladder, and Legolas followed just as quickly.

Jack pushed himself up front and went up himself. Frodo sighed and climbed up after him, with Sam at his heel. Pippin and Merry slowly and uncertainly followed them. Gimli, with much persuasion, went up after. Anamaria, Will, Elizabeth, Aragorn, and Boromir attempted to encourage Gibbs to start climbing, but their efforts were to no avail. His fear of heights, which had first shown itself to the Company in Moria, was as strong as ever.

"I am not going up! I am much safer on the ground," he insisted.

"With the orcs?" Will asked, raising an eyebrow. "You heard what Haldir said: orcs are roaming the paths, and they will kill you if you stay down here."

"That tree will kill me, and besides," he lowered his voice, "I still don't trust these elves, working for that elf sorceress."

"The tree won't kill you, Gibbs. Come on, just try."

"I'm going to fall!"

The others looked exasperated. Anamaria rolled her eyes. "Do I have to drag you up there? Or," she said suddenly, a wicked smile playing on her features, "should I tell the elves what you think about them?"

"No, don't!" he cried, real alarm in his voice. "They'll surely kill me!" Aragorn sighed; Gibbs' mistrust of elves, even after all his time in Rivendell, truly needed to be resolved one of these days.

"Then get yourself up there before I go up there and tell them," the woman shot back.

"Fine!" Gibbs snarled at her. He muttered expletives under his breath aimed at her, and she only rolled her eyes when they reached her ears.

"Go!" Gibbs glared at her once more before he slowly started up the tree.

Once he was out of sight, Boromir glanced at Aragorn. "I cannot blame him or Gimli for their suspicions," he said. "The stories in Gondor about the Lady of the Golden Wood are not filled with much praise."

"You have my word, Boromir: she will not harm us." Boromir still looked uncertain, but he nodded and started up the ladder himself. Those that remained on the ground quickly followed suit.

They stayed on the highest _talan_ for the night. Jack kept himself entertained by taunting Gibbs with stories about elves who sacrificed mortals to their gods, still highly amused that his first mate was so frightened of them after their long stay in Rivendell. Gibbs did his best to ignore his captain and the height of the platform, and in the end, he managed to fall asleep that night. Aragorn and Legolas conversed (and sometimes argued) with Haldir and the two other elves, who happened to be Rúmil and Orophin, his brothers. Gimli sat alone, muttering darkly to himself; he had an argument earlier with Aragorn and the other elves and was still not pleased about the situation. The rest of the Fellowship kept their thoughts to themselves, but all thirteen of them tried their best not to think about Gandalf.

In the morning, there were reports of orc bands scouring the woods in the night. All of them, even Gibbs, were now thankful for sleeping on the _talan_. There were also reports of a small, very quiet, tree-climbing creature that went around Lothlórien quickly- indeed, too quickly for even the elves to shoot in the dark. Those who had seen the creature before in Moria were immediately reminded of Gollum. Gollum or not, he was gone and there was nothing they could do about it.

After the Company stepped back onto the ground with all that was left of their baggage, they started their journey to the Lord and Lady of Lórien. It was a long road to take, but the paths were smooth and they met nothing to hinder them.

Around noontime, they came to a river where the streams of Celebrant and Nimrodel joined and created a strident, swift river, making it difficult to cross without a bridge. On the other side of the stream were a couple of elves with some thin silver rope. When Haldir came to the front of the group, the end of the rope was skillfully thrown across and Haldir caught it with ease. He tied the end of the rope around a tree, and when all was secure, he along with Legolas swiftly walked across it. Those of the Fellowship who did not know the skills of the elves that well were taken aback by their dexterity.

Two more ropes were thrown across, and they were tied a couple of feet above each other, thus creating a slender bridge. Aragorn was the first of the company to cross, one hand on the top rope, the other outwards to balance himself over the cold, rushing river. He crossed quickly, and beckoned the others to follow him. Boromir and Anamaria followed with little hesitation and were soon across the river. Gibbs, who remembered well Anamaria's threat from the night before, glared at her impatient look from across the river and slowly crossed the slender bridge. Frodo was not far behind him and Sam was on his heel. Both were just as uncomfortable, if not more so, than Gibbs, for most hobbits do not know how to swim, and both knew that if they slipped, they could very well fall to their doom.

Jack, who was right behind Sam, easily saw his discomfort and shot him a quirky smile. "We could start that swimming lesson I promised you here, if ya'd like."

"No, no thank you, Mr. Jack!" Sam responded quickly as he grasped the rope with both hands.

"Might come to use," the pirate pointed out.

Will, who climbed the rope right behind Jack, rolled his eyes. "Not right now. How about _after_ this journey is over?"

"Won't be very useful if he drowns on the quest," the other retorted.

To say that Sam was relieved when he made it to shore would be an understatement. He still could not tell when Jack was being serious or not.

Finally, when everyone was across, the ropes were untied and Rúmil and Orophin, who were still on the other side of the river, went back to their posts on the borders of Lórien.

By sunset, the Company reached the middle of Lothlórien. There was a wide, treeless space for a long while, but in the middle of this treeless gap, there were trees higher than any that they had ever seen beforehand. The branches were lit with gold, silver, green, and blue lamps that shined dimly in the sunset light.

"Caras Galadhon, the heart of Elvendom on earth. Home of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light," Haldir said with obvious pride.

By nightfall, they reached the city of Caras Galadhon. They met no elves to hinder or to greet them, but instead heard voices above their heads, and knew that the residents of the city were within the tall _mellyrn_ bordering the pathway. Even though the voices were loud and numerous, they could see no one.

Soon they came upon the greatest _mallorn _tree within the forest. The Company, lead by Haldir, tread a long staircase that wound around the tree and led to the highest and largest _talan_ in Lórien. After several minutes of climbing up the twisting stairs, looking upon the majestic and mesmerizing forest as they rose higher and higher, they came to the _talan_ at top of the tree. They were finally to meet the Lord and Lady.

The Fellowship approached a small flight of steps where two of the fairest elves that any of them had ever seen were sitting. It was obvious to all of them that they were the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. Hand in hand, the two elves stood up and lightly descended the stairs to greet their guests. Half of the Company bowed their heads in respect, while the others were too amazed by their beauty to move. Celeborn had the lightest color of hair; so light that it could have been silver. He wore fair garments of silver-gray and white. His face showed no signs of age, unless it was his eyes. Galadriel, however, had golden hair to her waist and was clothed completely in white laces and silks. She also showed no signs of age other than her eyes, which were a deep blue with stars glittering in the depths of the pupils.

Celeborn greeted each one by name. He first greeted Aragorn and Legolas, whom he seemed to know well. Gimli, Boromir, and the hobbits were greeted accordingly, and they all bowed when he said their names. He then approached Jack and Anamaria whose names he also knew. Anamaria found herself moved to slightly bow- an action she simply did not do- spellbound by his silvery voice and the Lady's commanding silence. Jack stared for a moment before he took off his hat and tilted his head in respect. His countenance was completely changed, for he could feel the power radiating from the both of them; it was impossible to react in any other way. Celeborn then went to Will and Elizabeth, who were standing as quietly as the others were.

"Welcome, William and Elizabeth Turner," he said. "Make yourselves home here in Lothlórien, where you will be at ease." He took a closer look at Will with something that could be described as a smile. "I was warned of the similarities between you and Legolas, but I did not know they would be so strong. Quite unlike anything I have ever seen." Will merely bowed his head.

Finally, he came to Gibbs, who had a slack-jawed expression on his face. The lord smiled softly at him. "Be at peace, young mortal, and let go of your fantastical worries." Celeborn laid a hand upon his brow and the man suddenly relaxed, and for the first time since he entered Lórien, he smiled. Gibbs bowed his head in respect to the elf.

The Lord of Lothlórien now went to stand with his wife again, and his fair face became grim. "The Enemy knows that your Company has entered this realm. What hope you ever had in secrecy has now vanished." He yet again looked at all of them. "Thirteen there are here, yet fourteen set out from Imladris. Tell me where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see from afar."

Galadriel looked upon Aragorn's face and she knew the wizard's fate. "He has fallen into Shadow," she whispered. Most of the Company looked at her with amazement; how could she have known?

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame," Legolas spoke gravely. "He met with a Balrog of Morgoth, for we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose." She turned to Gimli, who was now crestfallen by the mention of Moria. "Do not be troubled by the emptiness of Khazad-dûm, Gimli, son of Glóin." He looked up at her as she continued, "For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands love is now mingled with grief." She then turned to Boromir, who immediately looked away from her glance.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" asked Celeborn to them. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

"The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all," Galadriel said solemnly, looking upon all of them slowly. "Yet hope remains while Company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace." She stopped speaking and looked at each of them, some for a longer time than others.

Finally, they were dismissed.

O0O0O0O

The Fellowship sat upon the green grass under a large _mallorn_ tree where their camp was made, much to the satisfaction of the hobbits and Gibbs. They were silent and deep in their own thoughts. Each one of them had heard a voice inside their heads, and each knew that Galadriel had spoken to them. What she had said to each individual was not revealed to others at that time.

As they rested, a soft singing in the trees came down to them. It was a new tune and not the one the elves sang before. Legolas stood up and looked up at the trees in grief.

"A lament to Gandalf," he said with a sigh.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked.

"I have not the heart to tell you; for me the grief is still too near."

For all the grief was still too near. Some had only known him for a few months and some had known him for many years, but his loss had an impact on all of them. The rest of the night was mostly spent in silence. Some left the Company to wander the woods in solitude. As the night grew older, however, the peaceful atmosphere soothed their weary limbs and aching hearts and they fell asleep.

All, that is, except Jack. He was too deep in thought to find rest. He thought on all that had happened to him and his companions during the past couple of weeks. He thought about his last look on Rivendell, the terrible snows of Caradhras, the fell darkness of Moria, and Gandalf's fall. Soon his thoughts strayed to Galadriel and what she had told him. The pirate, despite his antics, was not daft; he knew that the elf saw his desire for the Ring. If Gibbs could see it, this elf certainly could.

The pirate definitely could see why Gimli thought she was a witch. The power to go into another's mind was nothing ordinary. Nonetheless, he was not afraid of her, but rather curious as to what she had to offer. He knew an opportunity when he saw one, and an elf that could see deep into the subconscious could certainly offer some useful information.

He was still on this train of thought when he heard something. He cautiously turned his head and saw Frodo sitting up. He turned around slowly a little more and saw Galadriel walking silently upon the grass. It seemed as if she was calling silently for Frodo; was she calling for him too? As the hobbit stood up and followed her, Jack decided that, invited or not, he was going to pursue them. He stole quietly into the shadows behind Frodo.

She descended a flight of stone stairs and Frodo slowly followed. At the bottom of the steps was a small hollow in which a quiet stream ran through to a small pool. In the middle of the area was a basin upon a curved pedestal and beside it stood a ewer. She took the ewer, walked over to the small pool, and filled the ewer with water. Frodo stood now upon the green grass in front of Galadriel, and Jack found himself hiding in the bushes above the area they were in. From his view, he could see the scene clearly.

She breathed upon the water in the ewer and stood beside the basin, looking at Frodo with a gaze that made anyone feel vulnerable. "Will you look into the mirror?" she asked him.

"What will I see?" Frodo responded.

A hint of a smile played on her features. "Even the wisest cannot tell, for the mirror shows many things." She started pouring the water slowly into the basin. "Things that were." She poured more. "Things that are." She was pouring faster. "And some things that have not yet come to pass." The last drops of water fell from the ewer and she stepped aside.

Jack peered over the bush, trying to see what Frodo saw while remaining hidden. Suddenly a familiar voice came to him.

'_I know you are there, Jack Sparrow._'

Jack's lips slightly curled. '_It is not you who I hide from_.'

A light chuckle came through to his mind. '_So I thought. Nonetheless, you are not permitted to see what the Ring-bearer sees; what the mirror shows him is only for his eyes. But do not leave; your time will come to look, if you wish_.'

Jack raised an eyebrow. Interesting. He saw no harm in looking, and quite honestly, he was very curious. Nonetheless, he did not try to look into the mirror while Frodo looked; he valued his skin enough not to go against the command of someone who had inhuman powers. He settled himself in the bushes and lightly tapped his fingers upon his knee as he waited.

He heard Galadriel speak and a sudden thud as someone hit the ground. He peered over the bushes and saw Frodo had fallen, and, interestingly enough, the basin was giving off steam. There was silence for a moment, but Jack quickly figured out that they must have been having a little chat with their minds.

"You give it to me freely," she whispered suddenly. Jack raised himself higher to get a better look at the scene and then he saw it: the Ring of Power. The man was suddenly filled with a great desire for the piece of jewelry; it was greater than any desire he had for it before. He wanted it very much, but no, he did not just want it, he needed it! The Ring was not evil, and the others only repeated that horrible lie to keep this precious piece of treasure from its true master, Jack Sparrow. The captain knew that once he had what belonged to him, he would not only be able to go back to the Caribbean, but that he would be able to conjure up as much gold as he wanted. Wenches would come crawling to him, and only with this tool would all of his wildest dreams come true. He needed it!

Suddenly a great light emerged from the glade. Jack's thoughts were interrupted by a loud booming voice; it was Galadriel. She seemed to be growing taller as the light grew brighter, and her voice was deeper and stronger, but had lost all of its kindness.

"And in place of a Dark Lord you would have a queen! Not dark, but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Tempestuous as the sea, and stronger than the foundations of the earth! All shall love me in despair!" She exhaled, and then the light around her disappeared as she turned back to normal. Breathing heavily she said, "I pass the test. I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel." Jack did not know what she meant, but Frodo seemed to understand her.

"I cannot do this alone," the hobbit said.

"You are a Ring-bearer, Frodo. To bear a Ring of Power is to be alone." She held up her hand. Frodo saw that she wore a white and silver ring with a great stone in the middle of it. Jack, however, saw only a pale light coming from her hand. Galadriel seemed to speak once more to Frodo in his mind, and only when she put her hand down again did she speak aloud. "This task was appointed to you. If you do not find a way, no one will."

"I know what I must do. It is just that I am afraid to do it," said the hobbit.

Galadriel bent down and smiled at him. "Even the smallest person can change the course of the future." Frodo nodded, put the Ring away, and walked out of the hollow.

Once he was gone, Galadriel looked up to where Jack was hiding. "You may come down now."

Jack jumped out of his hiding place into the hollow, glanced at the mirror, and then glanced back at the elf. "That whole show was... interesting," he idly commented.

Rather than being amused or offended by the comment as the pirate suspected, Galadriel became solemn. "That is exactly what I would become if I possessed the Ring. It corrupts all of its bearers until they become completely unrecognizable." She looked at Jack keenly as she studied his face. "Will you look into the mirror?"

Jack looked at the basin with a raised eyebrow. "Mirror? Looks like a bowl of water."

She seemed amused by his disbelief. "You do not wish to look?"

"No, no, I'll look," he replied. "I've seen stranger things than magical bowls of water." She only smiled as he approached the basin.

He slowly looked into it, and to his slight disappointment, only saw the night sky and the stars twinkling far above. He glanced at her once more, disbelief written on his features.

She met his gaze evenly. "Be patient and keep looking. Do not touch the water!"

The look of disbelief did not leave his features, but he kept on looking into the water. About a minute passed and he was about to give up when the water became foggy and the night stars disappeared. He watched the basin with renewed interest and was eager to see what it showed to him. From what he remembered, Galadriel had told Frodo that it showed the present, past, and future. Jack was especially interested in what the future held for him.

As the water became clearer, he saw the _Black Pearl_ sailing the sea, but there were torn black sails riding the winds, and his previous mutinous first mate, Barbossa, was sailing it. He saw some of his old crew on the ship, sweeping the decks, and monkey Jack chattering noisily away. The image then changed and now he was fighting Barbossa within the caves, the mountains of gold and jewels around him glimmering in the pale light. He watched himself turn into a skeleton in the moonlight, and back again to normal.

The image abruptly changed again and this time he saw himself, Will, Elizabeth, Gibbs, and Anamaria on the _Dauntless_, and the man that brought them to Middle-earth was sailing the ship into the storm. The man looked at Jack and he stared at him for the longest amount of time. Suddenly the image changed again, and a great many past events flashed before his eyes: Bilbo's party, his first sight of a Ringwraith, Tom Bombadil, Weathertop, the Council of Elrond, Moria, Gandalf falling…

He did not blink once as the images swept pass him in the mirror. He saw Gandalf fall; he saw himself running out of Moria with Gandalf still falling… but instead of flashing to another image, it followed Gandalf and the Balrog. Gandalf grabbed his falling sword and started hacking at the Balrog. He saw them fall into a large lake at the bottom of the abyss. Once they hit the lake, the water went black.

Jack took a deep breath and was about to leave the mirror when another image came up. He saw orcs, only they were not like any orcs he had ever seen before. They were as tall as Aragorn, as broad as Boromir, and were completely black but for a white hand that they adorned on their faces, chests, or shields. He saw these monstrous orcs hacking away at something, but could not see who or what. The image changed and he saw one of them shooting an arrow. He saw an arrow go through someone's chest, but could not make out whom it was being shot. Before he could take a closer look, the image changed again and now he saw himself. The Jack in the mirror was holding something, and a closer look revealed that it was the Ring. There was someone on the ground beside him, but before he could make out whom it was the scene changed once more.

Jack's eyes widened as he saw himself adorned with many jewels. He was sitting on a throne of gold and there were piles and piles of great riches around him. The pirate watched as the most beautiful wenches served him food on gold plates. And throughout all this, the One Ring hung on a chain upon his neck. He began to smile; he knew that it would make him rich beyond his wildest dreams!

Another change of scene, and he saw the Shire and its inhabitants going about their daily routines with the cheerfulness they were known for. The mirror suddenly flashed, and he saw the hobbits in chains with orcs whipping at them. He saw a hobbit child slaughtered by an orc, and as he grimaced at the gruesome sight the image changed again. Sam was crying over a dead body; it was Frodo. The water flashed, and he saw Boromir and Gibbs slain ruthlessly. Another flash and he saw Merry and Pippin in a cold dark room, cowering in fear. He then watched as people ran from their burning villages, and saw that the women and children who did not run fast enough were viciously slaughtered. The pirate had seen many things in his life, but the images he saw now were more gruesome than anything he had ever seen before. Before he could turn away, the image changed once more and this time he saw Will, Elizabeth, and Anamaria in chains. They watched in horror as vicious-looking men murdered Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn right before them. Will shouted at someone, and the mirror then showed the target of Will's anger. It was himself. He was powerful and richly adorned, but mutated nearly beyond recognition. He laughed at Will, took out his gun, and pulled the trigger. Around his neck, dangling innocently, was the Ring.

Jack could take no more. He wrenched himself away from the mirror, and found that he was panting heavily. He looked at Galadriel angrily, and she met his anger emotionlessly.

"What the bloody hell was that?" he all but shouted, more shaken by this than anything else he had ever seen before.

"You saw things that were, things that are, and some things that have not yet come to pass," was all she said.

He glanced at the mirror and shook his head. "Things that have not yet come to pass… is that the future, then?" He leaned against the rock and exhaled. "That _can't_ happen."

"The future is not set in stone and it can be changed. It all depends on what choices we make," she said to him. "Your temptation is strong, but you are not the only one. Every one of your companions desires the Ring in some sort of way, even if he is not aware of it. You must keep fighting against Its power, or the world will fall to ruin."

"Wonderful," he muttered as he frowned. Still he wished to have the Ring, but now his desire for it had lessened greatly. The graphic images were still playing in his mind.

Galadriel looked at him keenly. "I have seen what you were in the past. You were a law-breaker and a selfish man who thought only about himself. Yet even then, kindness came through when it mattered. You will be tested soon, and then you must make the decision: yourself, or the world?" Her stoic manner suddenly fell, and a small smile softened her features. "You were accepted into the Fellowship for a reason. You volunteered for the Company willingly. Perhaps you shall discover that your true intentions are not as treacherous as you thought."

Jack remained silent as he mulled her words over. Finally, he said, "You're the only one in this world who knows about my... profession in the Caribbean."

"It will remain that way," she said. "Whoever you were in the past matters not here; what matters now are the decisionfs you make in this world." He only nodded, and was about to leave when Galadriel stopped him. "Tell me," she asked, "how did you come to meet the one clad in blue?" He quickly explained to her how they had come to Middle-earth. Once Jack had finished, she was looking at Jack with a strange, unreadable expression.

"Do you know where he comes from?" When he shook his head, Galadriel said, "He is not from Middle-earth, but from Valinor."

"Where?"

"Valinor in the West. It is the Undying Lands, where all elves of Middle-earth sail to at the end of their time," she answered. "He that you met was one of the Valar, and few mortals can claim such an honor."

"Valar?"

Galadriel smiled. "Just know, Jack Sparrow, that you and your companions have been blessed. I am one of few elves who came from Valinor long ago, and I know a Vala when I see one. The fact that one of them came to you truly shows that you and your friends have a purpose here. Will your presence bring salvation or doom?"

"At this rate?" Jack shook his head. "No offense, but I've had enough for a night. I'll, eh, be going." He awkwardly took off his hat and gave her a short bow before making his way out of the glade. Galadriel watched as he departed and could only hope that he, too, would pass the test when the time came.


	15. Down the Anduin

The time period that they were from (most probably mid 1600s to early 1700s), as well as the country that they originated from, all but guarantees that Elizabeth and Will believed in the Christian God. After all, atheism in this time period was not practiced widely, and there is no evidence of Will's or Elizabeth's parents going against the flow in that regard. Gibbs has said things in the films that would lead me to believe that he, too, believes in the Christian God. Since there is little evidence for Anamaria or Jack (from what I know), I left their beliefs to be ambiguous.

I also figured out what type of gun Jack carried, and I think it was one that only carried one shot at a time. I cannot find anything that proves or disproves this, and I really don't know much on guns. Apparently someone who was really good at loading guns could do so with this gun in about 15 seconds. I think Jack could be skilled in that area.

* * *

Chapter 15: Down the Anduin

The passing of days continued as normal while the Fellowship stayed in Lórien, but none of them perceived time going by as they usually did. In the fair elven country it seemed as if time came to a halt, and each day passed slowly, but blissfully. There simply was no need for time. During their stay, they regained their strength and momentarily laid their troubles and sorrows aside.

During this time, Jack told his findings about the blue-clad stranger to the others. Through a little persuasion, Aragorn and Legolas revealed that the Valar were powerful, immortal beings. As they described them to Jack and the rest of the group from the Caribbean, they soon came to the realization that these Valar were some sort of god-like creatures. On one of their days of relaxation, the five from the Caribbean discussed the Vala.

"So, basically, a _god_ brought us here," Elizabeth started. "That sounds rather... impossible. Besides, there is only one God."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You may want to develop your listening skills, love. They never once said the word 'god'."

"But the powers Aragorn and Legolas described-"

"For all they know, they may not be true," Will put in. "They could be just myths."

"One problem with that- Galadriel told me that she has seen them," Jack pointed out. "Unless you think she was lying. If you do, I'll tell her myself." Will merely narrowed his eyes. "Just saying."

"Well," Gibbs started thoughtfully, "maybe they're more like... angels."

"Angels?" Anamaria asked with a raised eyebrow. "Sounds like gods to me."

Jack shrugged. "Eh, it doesn't matter. Whatever he is, he brought us here."

"Yes, but why us?" Will asked. "We are not lords of great renown."

"I resent that remark!"

"Alright, _you_ are renowned, Jack, but we are still not great warriors. Why send us? It makes no sense."

"Nothing makes sense, lad," Jack said, biting into an apple he snuck away from breakfast that morning. "Once you remember that, life will be much easier on you."

"Perhaps our presence here is merely the workings of fate," said Elizabeth, looking up into the skies above. "That- that Vala- did say something along us deciding the fate of Middle-earth. Perhaps our actions will influence this world's future."

Anamaria nodded in agreement. "Many things might be different if we weren't here. Remember, Jack, you saved Aragorn's life."

"Oh yea," Jack said, a smile creeping up his face. "I did." He then frowned. "Why in the world did I do that?"

"Probably the same reason you saved my life the first time we met," Elizabeth pointed out with a smirk. "There is that small part of you that really is a decent person, even if you have been hiding it for the most part. It's been showing up more and more here, though."

The frown did not leave his face. "I'm going to have to remedy that." He took another bite from the apple and glanced at it. "The food isn't bad here, though I have yet to find rum."

"There's got to be some somewhere here. We'll probably stumble upon it sooner or later," Gibbs said hopefully. Jack nodded but did not look convinced.

The group fell silent. Every now and then, the silence was broken by the noise of a carefree bird chirping above in the trees, the soft murmur of elves singing, or Jack biting into his apple. At length, Jack threw away the apple core and stood up, stretching.

"I'm going to have a look around. Maybe there is something of interest to do here." Jack picked up his hat, placed it firmly on his head, and strode away, leaving the others to their thoughts.

He wandered about, looked up at the tall _mellyrn_ with what could only be described as minimal interest, and greeted passing elves with a flash of a smile. Said elves merely shot him strange looks and spoke quietly to one another in their own tongue. He quickly found that, other than very tall trees, there was nothing very interesting about the place. The pirate soon plopped down against the trunk of a tree and pulled out his gun and a small pouch. A small smile came to his face as he eyed the gun. Bonnie, if he recalled correctly, was the name he gave it in Rivendell some weeks ago. The man was not quite sure how many weeks ago it was, but he really could not exert the effort to care. Leaving behind that train of thought, he quickly looked through the pouch that held his shot and was saddened to see that he did not have much left. Quite unfortunate, seeing that he still had a good amount of powder on him.

Quickly becoming restless sitting around with only trees to look at, the man stood up and wandered around a while longer. As he wandered, he suddenly stumbled upon Aragorn leaning against a tree, absentmindedly twirling a flower between two fingers. The Ranger heard his approach and nodded in greeting.

"'ello," Jack said. He glanced at the flower with a raised eyebrow.

Aragorn smiled to the other man's unspoken question, but only said, "Memories. Just memories." He looked at the flower once more before putting it aside.

"Memories, eh?" Jack sat down next to Aragorn. "I'd say memories about a certain lady back in Rivendell."

The other only gave him one of his queer smiles. "You could say that."

"Oh?" Jack stroked his beard thoughtfully. "They looked like rather nice memories."

"They are."

"Ah." Well, this was going nowhere, and Jack doubted that it would. Time to change the topic. "So, Aragorn, now that leadership has fallen to you, where will we be going next?" Jack had a mind for maps, and he easily recalled the maps that he once studied both at Bag End and in Rivendell.

Aragorn's peaceful expression faded and he became grim. "I do not know what road Gandalf planned to travel after Lothlórien."

"Ah." Still no information. "Well, you have to make some sort of decision before I make it for you."

The Ranger was startled out of his thoughts. "I beg your pardon?"

"When you're an indecisive leader, those that follow your lead tend to become rather decisive and soon decide that there needs to be a new leader." Jack shook his head sadly. "Basic rule of leadership, mate. Better brush up on your skills before you try and place yourself on a throne." Before Aragorn could respond, the pirate stood up. "Well, I'll be wandering about if you need me. Best come to a decision before I make one for you." He bowed lavishly to the Ranger and walked away, leaving Aragorn pondering over his last words.

O0O0O0O

After Jack left, Will began to feel restless, though he could not exactly say why. He stood up, excused himself from the rest of his companions, and started down his own path through the woods around the elven city. He soon came upon Boromir; the man was still and seemed deep within his own mind. Will sat beside him and Boromir looked up, startled by his sudden presence. The fact that this experienced warrior was startled at all spoke volumes about his current mindset.

"Oh, Will. Greetings," he said with a bow of his head.

"Good day, Boromir." He debated for a moment to himself whether he wanted to pry the man about his mood, and in the end decided there was no harm in asking. "Is something bothering you?"

"Why would you think that?" the other man asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You nearly jumped a foot when I joined you," Will pointed out. "You are not an unobservant person, so I assumed that you were deep in your thoughts instead."

Boromir's facade fell and he sighed. "I worry about my country."

"You are from Gondor, yes?"

"Aye," Boromir replied. "Gondor is on the Enemy's borders. Our soldiers face the most war, our people spill the most blood, and our kingdom is nearing its end. We need something to bring us some hope again, something to help us defeat the Enemy. The only weapon strong enough to do so is the Ring."

Will frowned. "Do you not you remember what was said at the Council?"

Boromir mirrored his frown. "Verily I do, and yet I deem they are merely afraid to try and understand its power. I still feel that attempting to enter the Dark Land to destroy the Ring is folly, and I hope that Frodo decides to rather come to Gondor instead."

Will shook his head. "It is very tempting path, I know, and my mind tells me that would be the best path." Boromir looked hopeful at this revelation, but the other man quickly shot any hope down. "Nonetheless, the desire I have to use the Ring feels unnatural, and my heart tells me that the Council was right and that it cannot be used for good."

The other man shot him a frustrated frown at the statement. "Will, it is folly to throw away our only hope to defend the world of Men. It is folly even to think about going into the Dark Lord's domain! There is no way in, and even if you somehow found an accessible entrance, there is no coming back out." He sighed once more. "I already know that Aragorn will not go to Gondor. He will lead us all into Mordor, and thus to our end." He put his head in his hands.

Will felt that part of him was agreeing with Boromir, and yet he knew in his heart that the other man was wrong- or was he? Perhaps the others were merely afraid to use this great power. Now torn in two, he left the other man without another word, unable to deal with company when his own heart was so torn asunder.

O0O0O0O

Gibbs and Anamaria soon left and Elizabeth found herself alone. While there had been little talk amongst them, she still found that she desired some sort of company, silent or not. So she soon left the spot and began to wander about the wood, searching for a familiar face. The first person she came upon was Pippin, and quite unlike his usual self, he was currently alone.

"Hello Pippin," Elizabeth greeted with a smile.

"Oh, hullo Elizabeth," Pippin replied, but he did it without his usual enthusiasm and happiness.

Elizabeth immediately became concerned. "Is there something the matter?" she asked as she sat down beside him and gently took his hand. While she knew that he was no child, she did know that he was the youngest of the hobbits and his manner and carefree nature often reminded her of a child. To see him so solemn was distressing.

Pippin shook his head at first, but at Elizabeth's encouraging look, at last revealed his heart to her. "I should have stayed in the Shire."

"Why ever do you say that, Pippin?" she asked, shocked by the revelation.

"I've been nothing but trouble on this trip," he mourned. "First in Bree, and then in Moria."

"What do you think you did to say such a thing?"

"In Bree I drank... and I drank too much, and told everyone in the inn that Frodo was a Baggins, and when he ran over to me Frodo tripped and became invisible. I stupidly endangered Frodo's life because of it! And then in Moria I caused that noise that brought the orcs to us. If I hadn't been so careless, Gandalf- Gandalf may still be here." He sniffled and hastily wiped his eyes. "Gandalf was right, calling me a fool of a Took. That is what I am."

"Oh, no, Pippin," the woman said sympathetically. "No, no, you cannot think that way!" She gently held him as he wept and waited for him to calm down. After his tears had lessened, she continued, "What happened in Bree is unfortunate, but it did lead us to meeting Aragorn, at least. Who knows how he would have met Frodo otherwise? As for Gandalf-" Her voice hitched slightly as she thought about the deceased wizard. "As for Gandalf, he would not have you feel guilty about his death. He chose to fight that demon monster, and he would not- I don't think he would want you to hold this guilt."

The hobbit sniffled, but nodded slowly. "I suppose you have a point, but that does not change the fact that I am only baggage."

"I am no great warrior either, Pippin, nor have I been of much use thus far." She grimaced as she thought about the trip from Weathertop to Rivendell. "Nonetheless, we both will have the chance to prove ourselves. I am sure of it."

Pippin nodded, but still looked solemn and uncertain, so Elizabeth spent the rest of the afternoon distracting the hobbit with other subjects, and for a while their cares were forgotten.

O0O0O0O

Soon the day of departure came, and while the Fellowship knew that they had to go on, they were very reluctant to leave the fair land. During their time in the Golden Wood, Legolas and Gimli had become the best of friends; a quite unexpected development considering the races of dwarves and elves had not gotten along for many thousands of years. The others had also made their peace with one another, and in Lórien, all old quarrels were finally left behind and laid to rest.

They were given five boats for the thirteen of them and were to row down the Anduin until the Falls of Rauros. This comforted them much, for the boats were a much safer way to travel than by foot, and their path past the falls could be decided on a later day. The elves provided them with spare clothing, food, and other supplies essential for their survival. The food given to them was mostly in the form of very thin cakes, made of a meal that was baked a light brown on the outside, and inside was the color of cream. Gimli picked one up with a doubtful eye.

"Cram," he muttered, taking a small nibble of the cake. His expression quickly changed and he ate the whole cake in a mouthful.

"No more, no more!" Legolas said, laughing at his friend. "You have already eaten enough for one day's march."

"I thought it was cram, what the men of Dale make for long journeys in the wild," stated Gimli.

"So it is, only this is much more strengthening then any food of Man," Legolas said, picking one up and gently taking off the leap wrapping. "It is _lembas_, Elvish waybread. The leaf covering keeps it well." He nibbled on the corner of it. "And one small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man." Merry and Pippin, who were standing nearby, shot each other unreadable looks.

Once Legolas and Gimli left to load the boats, Merry looked at Pippin with a raised eyebrow. "Exactly _how_ many did you eat?"

"Four," Pippin replied, looking at the four leaf wrappings in his hand. Merry shook his head and walked away while Pippin felt a stomachache approaching.

Each member of the Company received an Elvish cloak complete with a hood and a green leaf to fasten it. The cloak's color was hard to decipher; sometimes it was grey, but when one moved, it sometimes turned to a dark green or a deep brown. The Fellowship, other than Aragorn and Legolas, looked at them with wonder.

"Are these magic?" Pippin asked.

"Nay," said Legolas. "They are most certainly Elvish cloaks, but not magic."

"They were woven by the Lady and her maidens," said the Lord Celeborn. "She holds you all in high honor, for never before have we cloaked others with garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

Then the Lady approached them with several maidens by her side. "I have a gift for each of you. Some may be of more use to you on your Quest, but may all items remind you of the fair land of Lothlórien."

She then approached Legolas with one maiden behind her. Her maiden gave Legolas a bow, very fair and yet sturdy. "This is the bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our Woodland kin," Galadriel said. Legolas looked upon the bow with amazement clear in his eyes. He was at a loss of words, so he merely bowed his thanks to the Lady.

She then went to Boromir and he received a golden belt. "May the son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, never think evil of Lothlórien again." He was quiet, and finally murmured a thank you, looking at the crafted belt in awe. It was a trinket worthy of his station.

Galadriel approached Merry and Pippin and both were still stunned by her beauty. They were each given an Elvish knife, completed with a sheath. "These are the daggers of the Noldor. They have already seen service in war." Pippin and Merry looked upon them with awe, and each stuttered a thank you to her.

Anamaria and Gibbs were standing next to Merry and Pippin, and doubted that they would receive anything. They were quite surprised when Galadriel stopped in front of them.

She went to Gibbs first and he was given a shield that was golden brown, partially leaf-shaped, and covered with golden Elvish runes. "This shield will protect you in battle. Never be without it when you are in dangerous lands!" Gibbs was speechless as he looked at the shield appreciatively.

Galadriel then came to Anamaria. "You are brave, daughter of Man," she said to her. "May this sword strike swiftly all enemies that come upon you and bring you courage when hope is failing." She was handed a sword in a beautiful leather sheath. Anamaria grasped the silver hilt and, with a nod of permission from Galadriel, unsheathed the sword. Its bright blade glittered in the sunlight as the woman looked at it in wonder. It was a truly beautiful weapon.

The elf then came to Gimli; the dwarf was staring at his feet. She gave him a kind smile. "And what gift would a dwarf ask of the elves?"

"Nothing," he gruffly stated, raising his head to meet her eyes. "Unless if be to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is brighter than the morning sun, and more fair than all of the gold or jewels beneath the earth." At this, she smiled, causing Gimli to flush a deeper red.

"Is there nothing in my power that I cannot give? What is it that you would have, Master Dwarf? I will not have you the only member of this Fellowship without a gift."

"Actually, there is one thing," he stammered. "If it wouldn't be too much of a bother- nay, I cannot ask- if it would be possible, I ask for a single strand of your golden hair." He blushed deeper and looked down at his feet again.

"What would you do with such a gift?" she asked him.

"Treasure it, my lady; treasure it more than any jewel that I ever come upon," he replied sincerely.

She smiled and took from her hair three strands, and carefully handed them to Gimli. He put the strands gently into a pocket near his heart. She gave him one last smile and then went to Will and Elizabeth.

To Elizabeth she came to first. Elizabeth bowed her head in respect, but Galadriel gently lifted her chin up. "Stay strong, Elizabeth Turner, for your strength will be needed in the following days." She gave to her a necklace; it was a silver chain with one small white stone enclosed in silver. "This will not help you on your journey, but may you always remember the Lady of the Galadhrim when you look upon it and recall happier times."

"I shall. Thank you kindly, Lady Galadriel. You have been a great aid to us," Elizabeth said. Galadriel smiled and then went to Will.

"I see great things in store for you, William Turner. Do not lose hope, even when it seems far off." She handed to him a dagger with a sheath. "This is a dagger of the Galadhrim. Use it wisely!" He took it and thanked her.

She next went to Jack who stood next to Will. "Overcome your weaknesses, and the light shall find you." He guessed what she meant by these words. The images in the mirror still haunted him. He was then handed a pouch and he looked at it curiously.

"You recall that I had our smiths inspect your… weapon," she said, indicating Jack's gun.

"The gun," Jack clarified.

"Yes. After your explanation and their own inspections, they realized that it was akin to archery, for it is not the bow that kills, but the arrow. For this weapon, it is not the gun that kills, but rather what comes from it."

"Shot, you mean."

"Shot," she repeated. "I had my smiths create some of this... shot. They are made the same size and shape as the shot currently in your possession, but our material will travel faster, I believe. The amount made should be enough for your journey if you use them only in times of need." The elf handed to him a small bag made of a dark, soft material.

He opened the pouch and nodded approvingly at what he saw in there. "These will help."

Galadriel smiled and then came to Sam. "I have not one, but two small gifts for you," she said. She handed him a silver rope that was thin and yet very sturdy. "Elven rope made of _hithlain_," said the lady. She then handed to him a box with a rune on it. "G for Galadriel," she said. "Or, in your tongue, G for garden. This contains soil from my own garden. For if you find all land barren and wasted, you may use it, and the likeness of Lothlórien will be seen in your home." He mumbled a thank you and gave her a clumsy bow.

Next Galadriel approached Aragorn. She gave him a sheath that had been made to fit his sword. It was overlaid with a tracery of flowers and leaves wrought of silver and gold, and on it were set in elven-runes formed of many gems the name Andúril and the lineage of the sword.

"The blade that is drawn from this sheath will not be broken in battle, even if its wielder is defeated," she spoke. "But yet I deem there is something else you desire; am I not right?"

"You know of what I wish for, my lady," Aragorn said. "But it is not of yours to give me, and only through much toil and darkness will I gain what I desire."

"That is true, though this may lighten your heart, for I was bidden to give it to you if you should pass through this land." With that said Galadriel gave him a stone of clear green that was set in a silver brooch. "This stone I gave to Celebrían, my daughter, and she to hers; and now it comes to you as a token of hope. You have many choices before you, Aragorn. You may rise above all of your fathers since the days of Elendil, or you may fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin."

He pinned the brooch upon his breast, and the others looked in wonder at how kingly he suddenly seemed. That lasted for but a moment; he sighed and became normal once more and bowed his head in respect to Galadriel, but she lightly raised his chin up and looked at him in the eyes. "I deem great things in store for you, Elessar," she whispered.

At last she came to Frodo. The elf handed to him a small, crystal phial. "I give to you, Frodo Baggins, the Light of Eärendil, our most beloved star. May it be a light for you in dark places when all other lights have gone out."

After the gift giving, the Fellowship departed from the Golden Wood to continue on their quest.

O0O0O0O

The Company climbed into the boats already loaded with their supplies and began traveling the Anduin downstream towards the South. Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam were in the first boat with Aragorn paddling. Sam was not at all happy with being in a boat; he never liked the water, and he had a feeling that soon enough he would fall out of the boat and drown. Even if he managed to stay alive after falling out, he had a bad feeling that he would never hear the end of it from Jack. Jack, Will, and Elizabeth were very close behind Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam. The captain had taken the paddle and felt, of course, the exact opposite from Sam. He felt right at home on the water and wished to have his own ship back again so he could sail the waters of the world once more. This small taste of the water only reminded him on how much he missed the sea. Boromir, Merry, and Pippin were close behind Jack, Will, and Elizabeth, Boromir's strong paddle strides keeping up with them. Gibbs and Anamaria, and then Legolas and Gimli took up the rear, Gibbs and Legolas leisurely paddling the river.

The ones that were not paddling soon became bored with the inactivity, and some of them became sleepy. In the first boat, Sam was dosing off. He had quickly discovered that boats were not as dangerous as he had been brought up to believe, but they were extremely uncomfortable. This discomfort made his efforts to sleep rather futile, and so he took to watching the others behind him. The hobbit soon spotted a lone log floating down the river and realized that it had eyes. He blinked, rubbed his own eyes, and looked at the log again, but the eyes on the driftwood were gone. Sam told no one of this incident.

Many days and nights passed, and they made their way slowly along the Anduin, for the Company was in no particular hurry. Sam was once again getting drowsy in the boat. He gazed lazily at those behind them, but even as he felt sleep come upon him he yet again saw a log with eyes on it. He could take it no longer; the hobbit had seen those eyes at least three times in the past few days and was now fully convinced that he was not imagining things.

That night they camped out on the west bank of the Anduin, as they had done at night since they left Lórien. Sam told of the log with eyes to Frodo. "I have seen it over three times these past few days, Mr. Frodo! What do you make of it?"

"I should make nothing of it but a log on the river and sleep in your eyes," said Frodo, "if you were the only one who had seen them. I too have seen those eyes, once in Moria and once on the borders of Lórien."

"What do you think it is?" Sam asked him.

"Gollum," Frodo said without any hesitation. "But it may be something else, I suppose. Go to sleep, Sam; if it is truly a greater enemy than he, the others will take care of it."

As the two hobbits talked about the eyes, Boromir, Will, Jack, and Aragorn stared at the river. They saw a slimy-looking creature on a log with great pale eyes peering at them cautiously. He landed on the east side of the river, still staring at them unblinkingly, careful to keep his body concealed by the log.

"Gollum," said Aragorn to those nearby. "He has been tracking us since Moria. I had hoped we would lose him on the river, but he is too clever a waterman."

"And if he alerts the Enemy of our whereabouts, what then?" asked Boromir. "It will make the crossing even more dangerous than it already is."

"I still think Legolas should shoot him; if he doesn't want to, I do. That way we don't need to worry about him," said Jack, looking at Gollum with unfriendly eyes.

"Gandalf would not wish him dead," said Aragorn. "Do not shoot!" Jack muttered something under his breath at the command, but did not insist on killing the creature again.

"Will he- will he alert others about us?" Will asked uncertainly.

Aragorn shook his head. "I do not believe so. He too fears the Lord of the Dark Land and his minions."

"Even if he does not alert our enemies, orcs still scour the eastern shore and will make our crossing all the more dangerous," said Boromir. "Minas Tirith is a safer road. From there we can regroup and strike out for Mordor from a place of strength." Will and Jack said nothing, but silently agreed with him. After Gandalf's death, it seemed even more dangerous to try to sneak into Mordor. Why not have a strong army behind them to help them get into the Black Land?

Aragorn shook his head even as Boromir suggested it. "There is no strength left in Gondor that can avail us."

The comment did not bode well with Boromir. "You were quick enough to trust the elves! Have you so little faith in your own people?" Aragorn looked away so as to not meet the eyes of the Gondorian. Will and Jack shot each other a look. "Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men, but you will not see that!" Aragorn seemed to be ignoring Boromir, and that only angered him further. "You are afraid!" he suddenly shouted, grabbing Aragorn by the collar and turning him around so that they made eye contact. "All of your life you have hidden in the shadows, scared of who you are and of what you are." Aragorn shook the other man's hand off his shoulder and turned around to walk away.

He instead suddenly turned back and grabbed Boromir by the arm. "I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city!" Aragorn hissed. He then let go of the man, shot Boromir one last look, and strode away.

Boromir glared at Aragorn and quickly turned to Will and Jack. "Is that what you think too?" he spat. When Will and Jack made no answer, he stormed off as well.

"What they need," Jack said finally to Will after a pregnant pause, "is a large bottle of rum."

"Probably more than just one."

"Oh no, I'm saving the rest for myself, boy. I'll be needing all of them by the end of this trip."

O0O0O0O

The Company had only a day longer on the river until they reached the falls of Rauros. It was a calm night and so Aragorn decided to travel the river after the setting of the sun; in the last few days their pace had slowed down to something much slower than was intended, and they needed to leave the Anduin soon.

As they paddled silently, Legolas suddenly grew alert. He thought he heard something on the eastern bank but was not sure. He stopped paddling for a minute as he listened closely to the night. Gimli looked at him questioningly, but saw the look on the elf's face and did not ask anything for the time being.

The elf soon realized that he had most certainly heard something. He paddled as fast as he could to Aragorn and reached the lead boat within a couple minutes. "Aragorn, something is out on the eastern shore!" Legolas whispered urgently. Before Aragorn could answer, an arrow sailed dangerously close past his head and landed two feet from the boat.

"_Yrch_!" Legolas cried, falling to his own tongue.

"Orcs!" yelled Aragorn.

Pandemonium ensued. Arrows were flying all over. One hit Frodo but it bounced off his _mithril_ shirt. One came dangerously close to Merry's hand, and another sailed over Boromir's head. Anamaria had to push herself into Gibbs to avoid one, and Gimli counterattacked an arrow with his helmet.

Jack, Will, and Elizabeth were closest to the eastern shore. Elizabeth fumbled in the dark with her own bow and tried to make out any movement on the shore. Will was handed the oar, and as he rowed speedily towards the western bank, Jack took out his loaded pistol. He did not care what noise it made or who he shot, just as long as he hit something. The pirate squinted, thought he could make something out on the shore, and fired.

The shot was loud and completely unexpected by the others, especially the orcs. He heard a painful cry as his suspicions proved correct, smirked, and loaded the gun again. Another shot, another scream, and another dead orc. The others in the horde seemed frightened by the deafening noise the gun made.

Not all orcs were deterred. As Jack loaded again, the sound of an arrow hitting flesh split the air, and it was followed quickly by a great splash. Jack's gun fell into the boat, but the man himself fell into the Anduin. The others of the Company were already near the western shore but Will, Elizabeth, and Jack were still halfway across. Will handed the oar to Elizabeth, told her to paddle as fast as she could, and jumped out of the boat to find his companion.

As Will swam and searched for the pirate, Jack emerged from under the water, his hand tightly pressed against his left shoulder. Will noticed Jack attempting to swim for shore, but saw that whatever injury he had made it difficult to do so. Will yelled over to Jack and the pirate turned about. He stopped trying to swim away and the other quickly reached him.

"What happened?" he asked as he aided his friend.

"Bloody hell, Will, what do you think happened? I was shot!" He removed his right hand from his shoulder and it came away bloody. His left shoulder was bleeding freely and Will spotted part of an orc arrow still buried in the flesh. "Since you are here, perhaps we can cut down on this pointless communication and swim to shore, eh?" Will only nodded and supported the other as they both swam their way to the western shore where the others awaited them.

Elizabeth had just docked the boat when Will lead Jack out of the river. Now that they were out of range, the orcs stopped trying to shoot at them and had long since run off. Once they were in shallow water, Jack pulled away from Will.

"Damn it, Will, my shoulder does not hamper my ability to walk." He frowned and did his best to hide the pain he felt.

Aragorn rushed to Jack in the knee-deep water the moment he noticed his companion holding his shoulder. When he saw Will shoved away, he thought against attempting to aid him there and rather let the man make his own way back to land while he directed the others.

"Gimli, start a fire, will you? And someone fetch water," Aragorn ordered. He paid no more attention to them but rather went over to Jack, who had plopped down against the nearest tree far away from the others. The man seemed to be in pain, but Aragorn could see that he looked to be more in a foul mood than anything else.

"Let me see your shoulder."

"I'm fine," the other man spat.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Of course you are. Now move your hand and let me see the damage the orc arrow did."

"What in the world makes you think I was shot by an arrow?"

"I didn't realize you were merely out for a midnight swim," the Ranger said with thinly veiled sarcasm.

"What else would I be doing?"

Aragorn resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You are obviously in pain and your wound needs to be seen to. Now move your hand so I can see it."

"Don't worry about it. I've had worse."

"So have I. That does not mean that the arrow was not poisoned." Aragorn knelt beside him and gently covered Jack's right, bloodied hand with his own. "There is no shame in accepting my aid," he added quietly. The pirate looked unconvinced, but he said nothing as he moved his hand away from his shoulder. They were close enough to the newly built fire for Aragorn to see the damage.

"Fine indeed," Aragorn said softly as he examined the wound. The Ranger noticed that Jack was involuntarily shivering from the midnight chill and water still dripping down his clothes and hair. "Come; let us move closer to the fire."

"Not yet," said Jack suddenly. "I- I'd rather not." He said no more.

"Very well then. If not the fire, then at least accept my cloak." The Ranger unfastened his cloak and handed it over. Jack looked at him with thinly veiled suspicion, but when Aragorn did not move, he unfastened his own cloak and draped Aragorn's across his body. Satisfied, Aragorn took a closer look at the wound, frowning at what he saw. "The arrow snapped off and did not go in too deep, but there may be a small part of it still in there. I will need the light of the fire in order to aid you." Jack was about to protest this, but Aragorn cut him off before he could. "I will send the others away if you wish to do this privately."

Jack was in too much pain to protest against this compromise. While he had certainly been shot before, the arrow seemed much more painful than any bullet wound he had received before, though he had no idea why that was. "We have- we have an accord."

A smile passed Aragorn's lips as he nodded, stood, and left to join the rest of the Company. After a few words, all but Gibbs and Will had departed, and by Aragorn's slightly annoyed look when he returned, Jack quickly figured out that they would not leave.

"Don't worry 'bout them," said Jack in greeting. "I'll come with you anyways." Taking both his and Aragorn's cloak, the pirate followed the Ranger back to the fire. Over the flames was a pot with boiling water, and as Jack sat down Aragorn took out a small pouch from his coat and fished out a couple leaves of _athelas_.

"I am afraid this is the last I have," said Aragorn, "but this is what works best in my hands, and I think the wound is grievous enough for its use." He crushed the leaves, breathed on them, and put them into the boiling water; a sweet scent filled the air around the fire. "But now you need to remove your shirt so I can take a closer look at the wound."

Jack took off his shirt (with some difficulty for he would not allow the others to help him), and Aragorn ignored the strange designs upon the man's arms as he inspected the wound. It was not a large wound, but unfortunately turned out to be deep, and blood was still trickling from it. Jack kept his face stoic throughout Aragorn's prodding, but it was obvious that he was in pain.

"Let us hope the arrow was not poisoned," the Ranger murmured to himself. The pot of boiled water was long taken off the fire and cooled, and so Aragorn took a clean rag, dipped it into the water, and gently pressed it against the other's wound to stop the bleeding. "I believe it would be best if you laid down for the rest of this." Jack, too busy trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his shoulder, obeyed without protest. He just wanted this over and done with.

Now that the blood was mostly cleaned away and the man was lying down and close to the light, Aragorn was able to inspect the wound more thoroughly. He sighed with relief at the end of his observations. "The arrow was not poisoned, but there is still part of the arrowhead in there. It must be removed." Jack groaned and muttered a list of expletives under his breath. Aragorn only smiled grimly. "Relax; I will have it out soon." The other only snorted in disbelief but tensed as Aragorn laid a hand down on his shoulder.

"That really looks like you're relaxing," Gibbs put in sarcastically. Jack only glared at him and muttered something about demotion.

Aragorn glanced at the other man. "Come; you two insisted on staying here, and so you may as well be of aid. Hold him down gently, but firmly." Will and Gibbs obeyed, and Jack did not look quite that happy being held down by them. "You may want to look away," Aragorn warned.

"I can handle it," Jack retorted. Aragorn only looked at him before he took out a small knife. He sterilized it in the boiled water and let it cool before setting to work. The shard in Jack's shoulder was too small simply to pull out, so the Ranger had to coax it carefully out with the knife. He was only thankful that the shard was near the surface of the skin.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked as the other man came at his shoulder with the knife. He immediately tensed and tried to push himself up, but his companions held him down.

"Getting the piece of the arrowhead out," he answered, and without another word did his best to dislodge the shard with the knife.

Jack involuntarily resisted against the pain, but Gibbs and Will did not allow him any movement. He shut his eyes and turned away, gritting his teeth so as not to scream. The pain was unbearable, but he refused to let the others aware of this. After a moment of agony all of the hands left his body. He shuddered and opened his eyes as another clean cloth with _athelas_-infused water was pressed against his freely bleeding wound.

"I am finished," Aragorn said quietly. With his other hand he held up the broken shard of the arrow. It was no more than half an inch. Jack frowned as he accepted the shard.

"Felt a lot bigger than this small thing," he insisted as he flicked the piece away.

"It always does," responded Aragorn knowingly. The Ranger cleaned and bound the shoulder quickly and began to clean the mess. "I can make you a pot of willow bark tea for the pain," he offered.

"I'm fine," Jack muttered as he slowly and carefully put his shirt back on. Once he was fully clothed again and the mess cleaned up, the others were called back to the campfire. They quickly decided that it would be unwise to try to continue down the river that night, so they finished unpacking their camp; once the watches were set, the Fellowship quickly fell asleep.


	16. The Breaking of the Fellowship

Chapter 16: The Breaking of the Fellowship

The next morning, they swiftly broke camp and started down the river once more. Jack was full of bliss when he found his gun in one of the boats, quite relieved that it did not fall into the Anduin. Aragorn had patched up his wound with great skill, but he could not move his left shoulder and could only use his left arm minimally for the next few days. He surrendered the oar reluctantly to Will and lounged in the boat to the best of his ability.

After the Company left shore, they rowed for a couple of hours without any unexpected events. Before the sun had yet reached its zenith, they saw in the distance two great statues of men. Tall, sheer, and ominous, they stood upon either side of the Anduin and watched the North with upraised hands and wary gazes. As the boats flowed closer to them, the Fellowship could see that the statues displayed the majesty and power of the kings of old and boldly displayed the glory of their kingdom.

They looked up in wonder at the pillars, and Aragorn looked at them with pride. "The Argonath," he said to all nearby. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old- my kin."

Jack whistled appreciatively. "Wouldn't mind one of these, meself."

Gimli nodded at them approvingly as they passed through the narrow opening between the statues. "Even the stonework of the dwarves can compare to this artistry."

"Indeed," said Legolas. "Some of the structures of Men amaze me." He turned to Will on the other boat, who was rowing nearby. "Will, have you anything as such in your world?"

Will shook his head. "In history, it is rumored that we had statues this great, but there is nothing like this in our time."

Past the Argonath was a long lake, and in the middle of the lake was Tol Brandir, a great peak on a small island. On either side of the lake were great hills to match Tol Brandir's height: Amon Lhaw, the Hill of Hearing upon the eastern shore, and Amon Hen, the Hill of Sight upon the western bank. Beyond Amon Lhaw was the Emyn Muil, a labyrinth of razor-sharp stone that even the most hardened traveler passed by. Past Amon Hen was the flat country of Rohan, and past Tol Brandir were the deafening Falls of Rauros that fell hundreds of feet before crashing down upon the rocks below.

They landed on the western bank. After they had unpacked and eaten an early lunch, Aragorn called all of his companions together.

"Well, the day that we have long put aside has come at last," he said. "Boromir has decided to depart from the Company and travel back to his home in Minas Tirith, but the rest of us are undecided. Shall we follow Boromir down the western bank to the White City, where all of Gondor's wars lie? Or shall we turn to the east, where the Shadow lies, and not tarry with the purpose of this Fellowship? Or shall we split and go our separate ways? I do not know what road Gandalf had planned beyond this point so it is for us to decide where to go."

Everyone was silent, either unsure of what to say or unwilling to reveal their desires. Most of the Company wished to go with Boromir to Minas Tirith rather than to the center of the Enemy's territory. But deep within their hearts, they knew that the purpose of this Quest was to destroy the Ring, and to tarry on their mission could mean failure.

Aragorn turned to Frodo. "You are the Ring-bearer, and I feel that the choice lies upon you. Where would you go?"

Frodo was silent. Finally, he said slowly, as if he were uncertain, "Give me an hour to make my choice. I must be alone."

Aragorn nodded. "So be it. You shall have an hour, and you shall be alone. But no more! We must have haste." Frodo nodded and swiftly left his companions.

The hobbit soon found himself high upon the slopes of Amon Hen. He sighed as he looked upon the ruins about him. They were once standing structures, glorious in their early days, but the Enemy long ago broke them down. And so the Enemy would break down every last structure that spoke of the majesty of the Free Peoples. The only way Middle-earth would survive His ruin was if the power of the Enemy was destroyed, and that power lay within the Ring. Frodo knew deep inside his heart what he must do.

He was startled when he heard a noise behind him. Frodo swiftly turned around and saw Boromir collecting firewood.

"None of us should wander alone," he said as he picked up another branch. "You least of all. So much depends on you." He turned around to stare thoughtfully at his silent companion. "Frodo, would you take my counsel?" He started to approach him. "It is hard to decide what to do when there are so many about, but perhaps two can find wisdom."

Frodo shook his head. "I know what you would say, and it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart."

Boromir looked confused at the statement. "Warning? Warning against what?" He started approaching the hobbit once more. "We are all afraid, Frodo, but to let that fear destroy what hope we have- do you not see? It is madness!"

"There is no other way," Frodo insisted. "The choice is now clearer than it was before, and no matter how greatly I fear that path I will not be deterred."

"I only ask for the strength to defend my people!" Boromir shouted, throwing all the wood in his arms to the ground. Frodo looked up at him warily and saw an unnatural gleam in his eyes. "If you would but lend me the Ring," Boromir said in a gentler tone, taking a step towards him. Frodo shook his head as he took a step back. "Why do you recoil? I am no thief."

"You are not yourself," said Frodo as he backed up further.

Boromir clenched his fists and the gleam in his eyes became brighter. "What chance do you think you have? They will find you. They will take the Ring. And you will beg for death before the end!"

Frodo now saw there was no reasoning with the man and turned away from his companion to head back to camp. Boromir was furious by the denial and the remainder of his sanity left him.

"Fool!" he cried as he ran after Frodo. The hobbit saw this and started running. "It is not yours save by unhappy chance. It could have been mine. It should be mine! Give it to me!" Boromir suddenly tackled Frodo; his fair and pleasant face was hideously changed, and a raging fire was in his eyes. They struggled for a moment until Frodo managed to put on the Ring and disappear from sight.

Boromir gasped and looked around frantically. "Miserable trickster!" he cried. "I can now see your mind. You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us! You will go to your death, and the death of us all! Curse you, curse you, and all the halflings to death and darkness!"

As he rambled in his madness he suddenly tripped over a tree root that was hidden by dead leaves. He fell, rolled a few feet, and then was still as if he were frozen. Finally he lifted his head, and he was trembling.

"What have I done? What have I said?" he cried in agony. "Frodo! Frodo, I am sorry!"

Frodo did not hear his cries. He was already far away at the summit of Amon Hen. He ran up a set of stairs to the top of a broken-down structure and sat down, gasping for breath. When he managed to regain some of his senses, he peered through the many broken stones to the outside world. It was dim and he could see little for he still wore the Ring. But suddenly his vision was turned to the west and he saw orcs, only they were larger and fiercer than any orcs he had ever before seen. They ran under the sun, which normal orcs could not do without great agony, and they bore a strange symbol: a white hand.

The leaders of the large group were talking with one another. He could hear every word of their conversation.

"Why don't we kill them all?" one asked with a snarl.

"The Master says that one of the halflings carries something of great value. Probably an Elvish weapon for the war. We are to bring them alive and unspoiled," said the other.

"It would be easier to search them dead," the first one muttered. "But we must obey the White Hand," he added in a half-mocking tone of voice. "That still does not explain why the women have to be alive for the Master. What does he want with them?"

"I do not know the mind of the White Hand, and you'd be better off if you didn't question him," the other said warningly.

"I can think of a good few uses for wenches," added a third orc. The second one glared at him but the first one laughed.

"After the Master is done with them we could have fun with them." The second one's glare lightened as he imagined the possibilities and the third one laughed gleefully. After this, they started to run again. Frodo could see by their surroundings that they were in a wooded area that looked very much like the woods surrounding Amon Hen, and that fact gave him little comfort.

Frodo's vision was then turned to the east. He saw the ruins of Osgiliath, the once-proud capital of Gondor now turned into a never-sleeping war zone. He then saw Minas Morgul, and felt a sudden chill in his left shoulder where he was stabbed so many months ago. The Mountains of Shadow he passed, and then Frodo saw Mount Doom coughing up fire in liquid form. His vision flew by the mountain and then suddenly standing before him was the great tower of Barad-dûr. The hobbit's vision went higher and higher until he was face to face with the Eye of Sauron. He gasped and took a couple steps backwards. He was looking for him; He was going to find him. Frodo backed farther away until he suddenly felt nothing under his foot. He pulled off the Ring as he fell.

Frodo hit the dirt hard, and he choked as his lungs begged for air. Once he was able to catch his breath, the hobbit sat up and saw that he had fallen off the structure. He breathed heavily as he remembered what he saw, but was startled out of his thoughts when he heard something behind him. Frodo turned around and saw Jack coming out of the bushes. He stood up quickly and could not help but immediately mistrust him. After what he had seen the Ring do to Boromir, he knew he could trust no one- not even his companions in the Fellowship.

"There you are, Frodo!" Jack said, annoyance lacing his words. "It's been bloody well past an hour, and Aragorn says we need to get a move on, savvy?" He suddenly noticed that Frodo was backing away and his countenance immediately changed. "What's wrong, mate?"

Frodo opened his hand, and Jack saw a glint of gold in his palm. The Ring. Jack started eagerly walking towards him, but abruptly stopped as the images of Galadriel's mirror flashed through his head. The riches, the ladies, the rum… the pain. The agony. The death. He remembered seeing himself mutated nearly beyond recognition as he stood over his friends' dead bodies, laughing. Despite these images, the Ring was calling to him more strongly than ever before, and deep in his heart he knew that if Frodo did not take that piece of jewelry away from his sight soon, he would most certainly try to take it.

"Damn it all!" he suddenly shouted. He turned to Frodo, his conflicting emotions clear on his features. "Get out of here now!" Frodo did not need to be told twice. He quickly took off, leaving the man fighting for self-control.

The hobbit kept looking behind him to see if the man was following him or not when he suddenly crashed into Aragorn. "Frodo!" the man cried and helped him back to his feet. "Where have you been? It has been long past an hour, and I was becoming worried." He looked into Frodo's eyes and perceived immediately the suspicion, determination, and drop of fear. Aragorn was deeply disturbed to see that the fear was directed towards him. "Frodo? What happened?"

"It has taken Boromir, and it nearly has Jack; he is barely managing to resist it even now," Frodo said as he backed away.

"Frodo, I swore to protect you," Aragorn said softly, saddened by the alarm within the hobbit's eyes.

"Can you protect me from yourself?" he asked. Frodo slightly hesitated, and then he held out the Ring to Aragorn. "Would you destroy it?" Now that Gandalf was gone, Aragorn was the one he trusted the most to keep him safe; if he too fell to the Ring, then he knew that the Quest was doomed to fail.

Aragorn stared at the Ring unblinkingly. He heard It calling his name… he could defeat the Enemy with the Ring, It told him. He could be the King of Gondor and Arnor in no time… and he would have Arwen. He could not help but stare at the precious piece with longing, but deep inside his heart he knew that the Ring would only bring destruction to Middle-earth.

The man knelt beside the hobbit and closed Frodo's hand, resisting the Ring's power with all of his will. He saw Frodo's face and he understood; Frodo could not risk anyone else falling to the Ring's temptation. He was going to Mordor alone.

"I would have gone with you to the end… into the very fires of Mordor," he whispered.

"I know," said Frodo. "Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand."

Aragorn nodded with a knowing look, but then frowned. Had he heard the clash of swords? He stood up, drawing Andúril as he did. Frodo unsheathed his sword, and saw that it glowed a bright blue.

"Run, Frodo! Run!" he cried, turning around and running up to the summit of Amon Hen, where the ringing of swords could now distinctly be heard. Frodo nodded and ran downhill, away from the orcs, and headed east to the river.

Aragorn soon reached the summit and saw Jack single-handedly fighting off hundreds of orcs. These orcs, however, were larger and stronger than any normal orcs. Aragorn cursed to himself as he recognized the beasts; they were Uruk-hai.

Jack fought them off with all of his skill. His left arm was still immobile and the pirate could not help but wince when one of his enemies jostled it. This, of course, just made him more annoyed and fiercer in his attacks back against the Uruk-hai. Aragorn quickly made his way to him and started fighting alongside him.

"What took you so long?" Jack asked as he pushed one of the foul beasts back into his companions. "While you were taking your good ol' time getting here, I had to entertain this company by myself." Aragorn rolled his eyes as he beheaded an Uruk. Jack nimbly dodged the body part as it came flying his way. "And you may want to watch where you are flinging those heads, mate." The other responded by beheading another orc.

They slaughtered several of their foes as the minutes passed, though it seemed to them that for every one they killed another was quick to replace him. Soon the two were forced apart from one another as Aragorn found himself climbing the stairs of the old structure while Jack was shoved into a corner. The captain was having a particularly bothersome time with the two who were engaged in battle with him at the moment. Aragorn unexpectedly helped him with the problem; he pushed an Uruk off the top of the old building, and it landed upon one of the Uruk-hai that was battling Jack. Jack quickly slew the one distracted by the surprise and then decapitated the two that were still on the ground.

"Thank you very much," he called out to Aragorn.

The other man responded by jumping off the roof while crying "Elendil!" Jack absentmindedly slew another Uruk as he watched Aragorn quickly climb back to his feet and continue slaying the orcs as if he _didn't_ just jump ten feet down into his enemies.

"Some people would call your actions suicidal," the other pointed out. Aragorn only shot him a smirk before he was distracted once more by the Uruk-hai.

Soon Gimli, Legolas, Anamaria, Gibbs, Elizabeth, and Will joined Jack and Aragorn in the fray. Elizabeth and Legolas stood back and used their bows to kill many of the creatures at a distance while Will, Anamaria, and Gibbs joined in the swordplay. The lone axe-bearer was using his weapon with great skill and slew his enemies with what could only be described as vengeful joy. The Uruk-hai soon discovered not to underestimate him despite his small stature.

Will and Legolas were soon back-to-back, adapting to one another's battle skills quite quickly, and used this fast adaptation as an advantage to destroy the Uruk-hai. At one point in the fray, Will lost his sword and Legolas quickly lent him a dagger. With skill that even he did not know he possessed, Will used the borrowed knife as well as the knife gifted to him by Galadriel to cut quickly through the Uruk-hai and soon retrieved his sword. Beside the man and elf were Elizabeth and Gibbs, but before long the two of them were pushed away from the center of the battle and were forced to retreat down the slopes of Amon Hen. Within minutes, they found themselves facing the enemy far away from the others who still fought on the summit, but it seemed that there were enough Uruk-hai to cover the whole hill. The Uruks, for reasons neither Gibbs nor Elizabeth wished to contemplate, were not trying to kill the woman, but were doing their best to force her away from her companion and disarm her. Gibbs received no such mercy; every blow aimed at him was one aimed to kill.

Anamaria, Jack, Gimli, and Aragorn, while still on the summit of Amon Hen, did not manage to stay together like their other companions and became separated from one another. The Ranger had felled a great number of enemies, but one had managed to sneak under his defenses. The Uruk now had one hand twisting the wrist of his sword arm and the other crushing his windpipe. While the two had managed to come to a standstill, Aragorn was slowly losing the battle and beginning to black out.

Anamaria was trapped in a corner, both confused and highly agitated that the Uruks were not trying to slay her but merely disarm her. "Underestimating me, you bloody dog!" she cried to one who tried to knock her on the head with the blunt part of his sword. She quickly decapitated him and then turned to stab another before her enemy could so much as blink. "Come and get me!" she cried as she charged headfirst into another group of Uruk-hai.

Gimli was chopping off the Uruks' body parts as easily as if they were mere saplings. He heard Anamaria's shout and roared in approval. "Get them, lass!" He grinned, swiftly turned around, and split one of his enemies straight through the middle. "That will teach you to mess with Gimli, son of Glóin!" He turned around again and hacked an Uruk in the back, not even bothering to watch him fall. He swung his axe furiously as he made his way around the summit.

Jack was covering the stairs and the roof of the ruined structure. He gasped as one grabbed his wounded shoulder, and then slew it with contempt. He frowned as one Uruk laughed when he saw him wince over his wound. Jack rolled his eyes as he decapitated him and, in the meanwhile, barely missed a sword aimed for his neck. The pirate just managed to jump back in time, but gasped in horror when he saw his braided beard, unlike his neck, had not made it. It fell to the ground, the golden beads clattering ominously against the stone. He was slightly amused by the situation before; this unexpected turn made him furious. He slew all of the Uruk-hai around him, mentally noting to himself to pick up his beads when he was done killing the bastards.

Finally their number diminished, and the final Uruk on the summit died when Legolas pierced the back of the one choking Aragorn. None of them had gotten through the battled unscathed. Legolas had a bruise on his forehead and a trickle of blood dripped from his left hand. Will bore a small head wound from where one of them had tried to cut through his head, though the beast had failed miserably when Legolas had shot it through the skull. Jack's left shoulder was in a bit of pain, he had a cut on his leg, and his wonderful beard was now gone. He glowered as he realized that the stupid injury on his shoulder would now take longer to heal, and he knew that his beard would take a while to grow back. He bent down and picked up the remnants of his braids and all of his beads, stuffing them into one of his many pockets. Anamaria had a black eye from when an Uruk had tried to knock her out and a gash on her arm. Gimli had a head wound, though he did not seem to notice or care about it. Aragorn had a nasty cut on his right arm and his neck was already showing bruises from the attempted strangling.

Aragorn, gasping for breath, looked up at Jack with a frown. "What happened to your beard?"

"I thought it would be a nice time to go to the barber," the man snapped. "What happened to your neck?"

Aragorn's retort was unheard when a horn call pierced the air.

"The horn of Gondor," said Legolas.

"Boromir," Aragorn said, alarm in his voice; that horn was not blown unless he was in great need. He immediately started down the hill. The others followed him and they all met more Uruk-hai as they made their way down to aid their companion.

O0O0O0O

Gibbs and Elizabeth were continually forced downhill and soon they came upon Boromir, Merry, and Pippin. Boromir was fighting ferociously with his sword, while Merry and Pippin were behind him, skillfully throwing stones at the approaching Uruk-hai.

Elizabeth shot an Uruk headed towards the hobbits, and using a trick she saw Legolas once do, she used her arrow as a blade for any who came too close. She made her way past Boromir to join the hobbits so she had more distance between her enemies. Gibbs fought side-by-side with Boromir, and they used each other's presence to their advantage. When the Gondorian would nimbly dodge an oncoming blade, Gibbs would be there with a sword ready to thrust it into the enemy's chest. When the pirate flipped an Uruk over his back, Boromir quickly severed his head. And so they worked together to lessen the number coming towards them.

Once Boromir had the chance, he took out his white horn and started to blow. It was a loud, mighty sound, and for a split second, their enemies stopped in their tracks as if stunned. But this was only for a moment. Despite the great call, there were no Gondorrim armies nearby to aid them, and when the Uruks came to that realization, they charged at the men with a newfound strength. Gibbs and Boromir soon found that they were losing their vigor and, while they were prepared to fight for as long as necessary, they knew that they could not keep on going like the for eternity.

Suddenly Boromir fell back. His allies turned to him and looked on in horror at the arrow in his chest. At that moment, it seemed as if all time had come to a halt. Elizabeth's bow stopped singing and the hobbits' stones fell from their hands. Gibbs' eyes glanced quickly upon the battle scene and he soon spotted the enemy who had shot his companion. It was a large Uruk, and it looked to be some sort of captain. The Uruk leader grunted in satisfaction as he nocked another arrow to his bow.

Gibbs, with a newfound fury, charged at him, sword high in air. However, in his anger, he failed to pay complete attention to his surroundings, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks as something connected with his stomach. He took deep breaths as he looked down and saw the hilt of an orc dagger sticking out of his abdomen. The man quickly skewered the one that had stabbed him, but could not stop the rush of utter pain. Breathing became more difficult and Gibbs involuntarily fell to the ground. His vision became spotty, but his hearing seemed to be sharper than ever. The rush of two more arrows came to his ears, and he easily heard the cries of despair among the pounding feet. Beyond that, he could process no more. Sighing, Gibbs closed his eyes against the pain, willing it to pass.

Elizabeth, Merry, and Pippin watched in horror and despair as Gibbs was stabbed in the abdomen and, soon after, Boromir was pierced by a third arrow. Both could fight no more. The hobbits grabbed their swords and cried aloud in great fury as they rushed towards their enemies, heedless of their own skin and only concerned for their fallen companions. Elizabeth found that she was releasing her arrows at a greater speed than ever before in her life; despite her tears, her aim was as true as it always had been.

She saw Merry and Pippin drop their swords as the Uruks grabbed them and began to take them away. Caring little for the danger she was in, the woman charged at the two Uruk-hai who carried them, but was intercepted by one who appeared suddenly before her. Elizabeth grabbed an arrow and tried to pierce his heart, but he grabbed her wrist and easily twisted the weapon out of her grip. She kicked him, but he seemed unaffected by the move and quickly struck the back of her head with the blunt side of his weapon. The Uruk did it thrice, and it was not until the third time that she fell unconscious. He swung the woman over his shoulder and hastily followed the rest of the horde. They had succeeded in their mission; two were dead and three were captured.

The White Hand would be pleased.

O0O0O0O

One of the captains of the group stayed behind, for the man with the three arrows in his chest was still alive. It was time to finish him off, once and for all. The Uruk fitted an arrow to his bow and prepared to put the man out of his misery. He never had time to complete the deed.

Aragorn tackled the Uruk captain to the ground. The arrow went astray, landing harmlessly in a pile of leaves nearby. Aragorn quickly regained his feet and swung for his head, but the captain ducked and lunged at Aragorn's chest. The Ranger jumped back, the blade barely missing his flesh. They fought for a minute, each swing closer and closer to one or the other's death. One swing was but an inch from Aragorn's head, and it was a blow that would have been fatal. The Uruk-hai pushed Aragorn against a tree, and Andúril flew astray, landing in the nearby grass. The Uruk then threw his shield at Aragorn's neck and miraculously the sharp tips avoided his skin and stabbed the tree instead. Unfortunately, Aragorn was trapped between the tree and the shield and left to his enemy's mercy.

The Uruk charged and once again swung for his head. At that moment, Aragorn loosened the shield from its grip on the tree and managed to pull his head free from its grasp. He rolled aside, but the Uruk caught up to him and kicked him in the stomach. Before Aragorn could regain his breath, the captain pulled him up and began to choke him. Aragorn gasped, but before he began to black out he unsheathed a small knife and stabbed it into the other's leg. The Uruk let go of the man and yelled in pain, but Aragorn took this moment to run and grab Andúril. The captain pulled the knife out of his leg and licked the blood on the knife. Aragorn looked at him in disgust, but had no time to contemplate the beast's mannerisms as he threw the knife at him. Aragorn parried the weapon with his sword and climbed back to his feet. The Uruk charged once more.

The two danced once more in a duel, both unable to gain the advantage. Finally Aragorn pressed his enemy with all of his remaining strength, sliced off the Uruk's sword arm, and thrust his blade into the Uruk-hai's chest. The captain grunted, and rather than trying to pull away, pushed the blade further into his body, forcing Aragorn to come closer to his enemy or to lose his sword.

Suddenly a deafening noise broke through the area and the Uruk fell to the ground, dead. Aragorn pulled out his sword and looked behind him. Jack had his gun out, and smoke was rising from the barrel.

"That's the second time I saved your life," said Jack with a smirk.

"I was doing perfectly fine," Aragorn retorted, wiping the blood from his mouth and sheathing his sword. He glanced around at his surroundings and saw that the sight that had first greeted his eyes was no illusion: Boromir was still leaning against a tree with three arrows deep in his chest. "No…" He ran up to the fallen warrior and knelt beside him. On the man's side was his horn, and it was cloven in two. Miraculously the Gondorian was still alive, but barely. Death lay just around the corner.

The man gasped for breath. He opened his eyes and looked upon Aragorn; his face was pale.

"They took them!" he gasped.

"Lay still," Aragorn commanded, holding his companion steady.

"Frodo. Where is Frodo?"

Aragorn sighed. "I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him."

Aragorn looked at him compassionately; he knew what temptation had taken Boromir. "The Ring is beyond our reach now."

"I am sorry. Forgive me, if you have the heart and mercy to do so. I did not see, and I have paid." He closed his eyes, his breath becoming faster and thinner. He opened them again; they were wet. "I have failed you all."

Aragorn shook his head. "No, Boromir, you have fought bravely. You have kept your honor."

Boromir weakly shook his head. "No. It is all over. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness, and my city to ruin!" He sighed in grief and despair.

Aragorn looked sternly into his eyes. "I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail."

"Our people… our people," he gasped, and a small smile was on his blue lips. His life was drawing to a close. "I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king." He closed his eyes, the small smile still on his face; he never spoke another word again.

Aragorn kissed his brow and whispered, "Be at peace, son of Gondor." He bowed his head in silence and paid no heed to the tears that fell from his eyes.

O0O0O0O

As Aragorn spoke quietly with Boromir, Jack, Will, and Anamaria rushed to Gibbs. Anamaria came to him first, and winced in disgust and horror at the cruel blade in his stomach. His eyes were closed.

"Gibbs, Gibbs!" she cried in anguish. "Gibbs, wake up, wake up!" For the first time in many, many years, her eyes went moist.

He opened his eyes slowly. "'ello Anamaria," he whispered. He glanced at the tear that was beginning to roll down her cheek. "You're such a woman. So emotional." She snorted and rubbed her hand across her eyes, but said nothing in retort; her mind was completely blank. The man shot her a weak smile, as if he realized what she was thinking, and then frowned as pain lanced through his body. "I'm not going to make it."

She shook her head, denial written all over her features. "No, you will make it! You have survived shipwrecks, and cursed pirates, and Tortuga bars- you will survive this!"

He only smiled. "I know death when I see it." A cough wracked his frame, and the woman grabbed his hand. He looked down at it with a raised brow, and then looked back at her face. "Anamaria… for bein' a woman... you aren't that bad of luck." She could only smile at the comment. "Now, let me speak to the lad."

Will bent down beside him as Anamaria stepped away, rubbing her eyes furiously. Gibbs looked up at him solemnly. "They took Merry, and Pippin, and… and Miss Elizabeth… I've known her since she was but a girl, and I'd hate to see anythin' happen to her. Find her, lad, and soon." Will nodded but was unable to speak, full of grief at not only the news of his wife but also the death of his friends.

Lastly, Jack leaned beside him, his hat off in respect. "I like your beard," Gibbs said with a gleam in his eye.

Jack pursed his lips. "For this being your dying moment," the man started, "you are elongating it rather nicely. Think you may be able to do so for a few more years?"

Gibbs shook his head. "You were always a funny one, Captain." He paused to take in a shallow breath. "How's Boromir?"

Jack looked over and shook his head. "I don't think he's going to make it."

The other man nodded. "And neither will I. I will miss drinking with ye. I'm only saddened that we weren't able to find the rum together. It... 'twas a pleasure knowing you, Jack." With those last words, Gibbs closed his eyes and passed away.

The rest of the Company stood and bowed their heads in grief for their fallen comrades. Legolas and Gimli quietly entered the clearing and joined in the silent mourning.

Finally, after a moment of silence, Aragorn broke in. "And thus passes Boromir, son of Denethor, heir to the Stewardship of Minas Tirith of Gondor." He sighed. "They will look for his coming from the White Tower, but he will not return."

Jack looked at Gibbs yet again. "He was a good man, a good sailor, and a great drinking partner. I shall miss him every time I drink." He left his head bowed for a moment more, then straightened up and put on his hat. "Well, we cannot just stand around and do nothing. They'd not want us to dawdle around."

Will nodded in agreement. "That is true. The orcs have taken my beloved and the hobbits. We must not tarry."

Jack nodded, but added, "What, first, shall we do with the dead?"

Aragorn said, "We have no time to bury the bodies, but we cannot let them be food for foul creatures."

"We could always send them down the river in a boat," suggested Legolas. "The Anduin will bring their bodies safely past Gondor and the Enemy's lands to the Sea."

Aragorn nodded in agreement. "We must bear them back to the campsite."

Legolas bowed his head in acknowledgement, but added, "First I must retrieve any arrows I can find, for my quiver is empty." He started searching about for unspoiled arrows, whether they were his or those of his fallen enemies. The others bore the bodies slowly back to the camp.

Once they had reached the campsite, Anamaria visibly paled as she looked upon Gibbs' possessions. "Galadriel must've known Gibbs' fate. Look!" She pointed and leaning against a tree was Gibb's shield. "She warned him to carry it wherever he went!"

Aragorn shook his head in grief. "Both left their shields when they left for battle. The Lady of the Golden Wood must have foreseen Gibbs' death and gave him the shield to prevent it. But, alas! so were their fates." Aragorn shook his head once more. "Come; let us be quick with this deed." They put each body on a separate boat, along with their personal possessions and the weapons of their fallen enemies.

Legolas came back right before they were about to set off; he had retrieved as many arrows as he could find. He did not only have more arrows, but also bore many other weapons.

"I found your knife in the clearing, Aragorn," he said, handing it back to the Ranger.

"My thanks," said the man. "Celeborn gave this to me before we left Lórien; I would be sorry to lose it."

Legolas nodded and then gave him Merry and Pippin's knives that they had received in the Golden Wood. Aragorn took them, hoping that he would soon be able to return the weapons to their masters shortly. The elf then went to Will, a solemn look upon his face as he gave the man a bow and a necklace. "These were also in the clearing; Elizabeth left them behind." The man gently took them, an unreadable look upon his face as he looked upon the jewel. "You will be able to return them to her," said the elf.

Will nodded. "I will. Thank you Legolas."

Now that the funeral boats were ready and Legolas had returned, the group pushed the boats to the middle of the river. The Anduin took the boats slowly downstream, and they passed out of sight down the falls.

Jack sighed. As he looked around, he realized something that the others did not seem to have noticed yet in their grief. "Hey, where's Frodo and Sam? Were they taken too?"

Legolas shook his head. "I do not know. I did not see any of their weapons in the clearing." He too glanced around the campsite, and noticed that another boat was missing. He saw small footprints in the sand that led to the water. Following the line across the river, he suddenly saw the missing boat. "There is another boat on the eastern back! They must have left without us! Come, we must follow them!"

Aragorn remained silent as he bound one of his wounds. Will, who had suddenly become angry, stormed up to Legolas. "What about Elizabeth, and Merry and Pippin? What shall we do about them? Would you leave them to their fate?"

Legolas looked at Will expressionlessly. "I would not see them suffer; you know that. And yet I worry about Frodo and Sam." He turned to Aragorn. "You still lead this company; where would you say we go?"

Aragorn sighed as he put on Boromir's vambraces, both bearing the symbol of the White Tree of Gondor, that he kept in memory of the man. He turned his head to the eastern shore, deep in thought. Finally, he said, "Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands."

Gimli shook his head. "Then it is all in vain! The Fellowship has failed!"

Aragorn glanced at his remaining companions and shook his head. "Not as long as we hold true to each other." Jack nodded wordlessly. "We will not abandon Merry, Pippin, and Elizabeth to torment and death. Not while we have strength left."

"Hear, hear!" said Anamaria fiercely. "Those orcs will soon regret ever comin' across me."

Aragorn smiled grimly. "So they shall. Let us clean up and leave as soon as possible." They nodded in agreement, washed the blood off their skin and bound their larger wounds with cloth. After they had done so, Will was the first to rise.

"Let us go!" he exclaimed. "Every moment we are here is a moment they are farther ahead of us."

"Leave all that can be spared behind; we travel light," said Aragorn, picking up only a few packages with food, water, herbs, and a few other essentials. "Let's hunt some orc."

"Yes!" cried both Gimli and Jack at the same time. Everyone grabbed all they needed and started running westward through the woods, following the tracks of the Uruk-hai and their captive companions, hoping to find them before it was too late.

* * *

A/N: So, Frodo and Sam are off to Mordor, Boromir and Gibbs are dead, and Pippin, Merry, and Elizabeth are taken by the Orcs. From now on, I will only follow Jack, Will, Anamaria, Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli. We cannot follow the dead (Gibbs/Boromir), Frodo/Sam is exactly the same, with perhaps a couple of references to Jack and Company, and Pippin/Merry/Elizabeth's tale will be mostly the same, except for a couple of lines by Elizabeth. Redundant, so no need to follow them :P


	17. :The Two Towers: Rohan

Chapter 17: Rohan

"Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out," Jack muttered to himself as he ran with Gimli at the back of the group. He suddenly slowed and then stopped in his tracks, his hands upon his knees. It was so much more convenient to have a horse or a ship at hand. But no, they had to _run_ after their friends' captors.

It was near the evening of the second day of their long run. For the entirety of the trek, Legolas, with his tireless speed, and Will, with his relentless fury, remained in front of the others. Aragorn and Anamaria were usually right behind them, Aragorn making sure that they did not stray off course, and Anamaria helping him with the tracking to the best of her abilities. Her abilities in tracking were non-existent, but no one had the heart to tell her that she was doing Aragorn no good, and the only one with little care for her pride was too busy attempting to keep his breathing more or less steady. Jack and Gimli lingered behind the rest, unused to running such long distances.

Gimli stopped as well to catch his breath. He glanced at Jack with a mirthless smile. "Better not stop long, lad, or you will be-"

"Come on, Jack and Gimli, don't fall behind!" Will shouted at them from the front.

"-reprimanded by Will," the dwarf finished.

"Go on without us, you tireless git!" Jack shouted back at him. "If he goes on like that, he'll soon find himself with a nasty gunshot wound in his head," the pirate muttered darkly.

Gimli chuckled. "I can't blame you, lad. That bothersome elf has been no good, either." He drank some water from his waterskin. "Come, Jack, let us continue before they leave us behind."

"Don't really mind if they do," the other retorted, but he continued along with the dwarf anyways.

A few hours later they stopped, only after all traces of light left the sky. They were at first unsure if they should stop for the night or continue, for they did not know if the Uruk-hai would stop or not, and if they did not, then they would never catch up with their friend's captors. However, if some important sign was left on the road, they would not spot it in the dark. Finally, it was decided that they would stop for the evening and continue at dawn. If they missed something, that could lead to failure in their search.

They had come amazingly far for just two days on foot, and they all suspected that the _lembas_ bread was behind all of their bursts of energy. Despite that they went far and as fast as they ran, their friends remained farther ahead.

Once they stopped for the night, Jack and Gimli threw themselves on the ground, extremely weary. Anamaria panted as she collapsed beside them and forced herself to only take a sip of water and not drink everything in the skin. Legolas spared a glance for his companions and then stared into the distance; he was the only one of them who was not yet weary. Aragorn sat down on a boulder, his breathing heavy from the day's travel. Will, despite his fatigue, paced to and fro in the area; he dearly wished to continue, wanting to find his wife as soon as possible. While his body was screaming at him to rest, he only felt the fury and worry in his heart.

"We can still continue!" he argued once more long after the decision was made, looking longingly to the northwest.

Aragorn shook his head once more against the proposal. "We may miss something important if we run throughout the night, and that, my friend, we cannot afford," he repeated patiently as he drank some water. When Will only continued to pace, the Ranger walked over to him and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "They are not dead. Orcs slay things that are meant to die right away, not capture them and then slay them. Nay, I deem that they are wanted alive, and hopefully unspoiled. But never fear, for we will catch up with them. Besides…" He looked over to Anamaria, Jack, and Gimli, who were still sitting on the ground, breathing heavily, "our friends are not used to such long trips, and they need rest," he ended with a soft, compassionate smile.

Will sighed and sat down, his fury dying and his weariness finally catching up with him. He lay against a boulder, and no matter how much he tried, he could not turn his thoughts away from his wife. He imagined that the Uruk-hai were a lot like the pirates that captured her over a year ago when they found out it wasn't her blood that they needed; perhaps they were worse. He clenched his fists at the thought and once more wished that they could run throughout the night.

Jack checked his shoulder. It was healing quickly, and for that, he was thankful. He could move it a little, but it was not fully capable of much action just yet. He stroked his chin and groaned quietly when he did not feel the braids that used to dangle down from it. He hoped it would grow long enough soon so he could braid it again.

His thoughts strayed to Amon Hen, when Frodo had showed him the Ring. What was it that he had felt? How did he resist such an overwhelming power long enough for Frodo to get away? He sighed, relieved that the Ring was not around him anymore; it was as if a fog he had not known lurked in his mind was now suddenly lifted. As it was, he found that it was surprisingly difficult to resist the first time; could he do it again? He smiled grimly at the thought, but soon decided to go to sleep, lay aside his troubles for the moment, and regain his strength for another day's run.

Anamaria played with her hair inattentively, deep in thought. So much had happened since the day they first came to Middle-earth. Three of their Fellowship members were dead: their original leader, a fellow pirate, and a noble man from a kingdom far away. Three were being held captive, and her companions were to 'hunt them down'. Only two were left to fulfill the original purpose of the Company: to destroy the Ring. She sighed, relieved that she was with the trinket no longer. While it had been near indiscernible at first, as the days went on she became more aware of its call slowly gnawing away at her defenses; it was becoming nigh unbearable. To be finally free of its pull made her heart lighter despite all the troubles they had gone through recently.

Gimli shook his head as he thought what the poor hobbits and the lady were going through. If only he had those Uruks right where he wanted them- then he would show them the real meaning of pain! He smiled grimly at that thought, and then frowned as he thought once more about the captives. He fervently hoped that the six remaining companions of the Company would reach them soon.

Legolas looked out northwest. In the dim light he could not make out much in the distance. The Uruk-hai were lengthening the gap between them, minute by minute. He looked over to Will, who had run with him like no other mortal he had ever known before. Will showed him the true meaning of anger; it was obvious that he loved his wife dearly, and was worrying about her every minute. The elf walked over to the man, who was sitting on the ground and clenching his fists, unable to relax. Legolas sat down beside him and they were silent for a while.

Finally, Legolas broke the stillness. "Do not worry. We will find them soon."

Will shook his head. "I cannot help it. It is my fault that I was not with her when she needed me most."

Legolas shook his head. "Nay, it is not your fault! None of us could have predicted such an attack, and there were many." He put a hand on his fellow's shoulder. "Do not fear, my friend. She will survive this."

Will only nodded. Legolas sat with him quietly for a long while, offering him silent support.

Aragorn, some could say, was the most troubled of them all. He could not help but think of his failures when it came to leading the Fellowship. Two of his companions- two of his friends- were dead because of his leadership. Three were captured by their enemies, and only two hobbits remained to continue their original quest to Mordor, alone and without any guidance, all because of him. If Gandalf had not fallen, how much better it would have been for their Company! When Gimli said at Amon Hen that 'the Fellowship has failed', he only confirmed Aragorn's thoughts. The last thing he felt he could do was keep everyone's morals high, seeing as he was unsure if he could trust his own decisions anymore.

Aragorn smiled grimly as these thoughts passed through his mind. And to think he was destined to be the king of Men. How he wished Gandalf were here! He would know which course was the correct one.

Legolas saw that Aragorn was troubled, and since Will seemed more at peace than he had been earlier that evening, the elf left the young man to his own thoughts. He quietly came up to the Ranger and lightly touched his friend's shoulder when the man did not note his presence. Aragorn turned around quickly, clearly startled out of his thoughts.

"_Man le trasta, mellon nín_?" he asked Aragorn.

The other sighed. "_Nâ han sin_-"

"Are you speaking in that Elvish again?" Jack suddenly interrupted, opening an eye as he did. They had thought him asleep, but obviously, he was not.

Legolas laughed lightly. "We are. I did not realize you were awake."

"I am." He glanced at Gimli and Anamaria who were clearly asleep, and then at Will, who was at the edge of their small camp and alone, deep in his own thoughts. The captain stood up and strode over to the man and elf, collapsing down beside them. "So, this Elvish language- how do you know it, Aragorn?"

"I was raised in Rivendell."

"Interesting," said Jack thoughtfully. He paused for a moment. "Can you teach me some of it? It sounds fascinating."

Legolas smiled. "Some of it? What do you wish to know?"

Jack gave off a string of a few words and Aragorn and Legolas, both amused and a little bemused by his request, gave him the translations. They soon came upon a word, however, that they did not know how to translate.

"Rum?" Aragorn asked.

"Aye, rum. The best drink a man can get." Jack frowned. "Haven't come across any yet, and Gibbs- well, Gibbs and I were going to drink together when we found some."

Legolas was silent as he contemplated the word. "Well, rum is a bit like wine, is it not?"

"A bit like wine!" Jack shook his head sadly. "Mate, it's much better than wine. It's the god of all alcohol! It's… rum!"

Aragorn glanced at Legolas before he turned back to Jack. "To be honest, Jack, we have ale, and wine, and other alcoholic drinks, but there is nothing in Middle-earth that is known as 'rum'. Elizabeth once told me what rum was, but we really do not have anything by her exact description."

Jack looked at him grimly. "No rum? What type of heathen world is this?" If looks could kill, anything that Jack laid his eyes on at that moment would be dead. After a short moment of such a look he suddenly stood up, a determined expression replacing the frustration.

"Legolas, what is the translation of 'drink of God' in Elvish?"

Legolas looked completely baffled by the question. "I suppose there are a few ways you could say that-"

"Name them."

Bemusedly, Legolas gave him a few possible translations. Jack was silent as he listened, but when Legolas was finished he said, "Those don't have the ring of the name 'rum', but Elvish will need to have a word for it. So..." He tried a few of the words on his tongue, shortening and elongating them to make them sound better. Aragorn and Legolas only stared on with baffled amusement. The pirate finally came upon a translation he liked. "Sogoneru. Yea, Sogoneru. Drink of God! The new Elvish name for rum."

"Jack," started Aragorn patiently, "as I said, there is no rum-"

"There will be. By God there will be." With that, he walked away and laid down on his bedroll to catch some sleep.

Legolas glanced at Aragorn. "That was a strange conversation."

"He is a strange man," the other pointed out.

"That is true. Still, how in the world does he think he will be able to make his drink? We are nowhere near civilization."

"From what I've seen of Jack, he'll manage to do it sooner or later." Aragorn shook his head. "Well, we must rest for the night. I will take first watch."

"Nonsense," argued Legolas. "You are weary and I am not. Rest, my friend; I will watch for the night." Aragorn bowed his head in thanks and was soon on the ground, fast asleep.

O0O0O0O

The next day the mortals of the group were awakened by Legolas at dawn, and by a quarter of an hour later they, some more willingly than others, were on their feet and running. It was now the third day in their pursuit of the Uruk-hai, and they quickly discovered that, most unfortunately, their enemies did not stop during the night and were now much further away.

The sun rose high above their heads, and yet the company continued to run. Gimli muttered to himself at the end of the group. "I am wasted on cross-country… we are all wasted! This is folly! There is no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell! And our enemies run with a relentless speed!"

Jack nodded in agreement. The two had caught up with Aragorn and Anamaria on their third day, much to the help of the _lembas_ bread. "Folly… indeed…" he said in between breaths. "But we mustn't give up hope, as he says." He nodded his head towards Aragorn. "Slim chance of them being alive now, but still a chance, however slim it is." He snorted in disbelief.

All of a sudden, Aragorn cried aloud and bent downward onto the grass. He picked up a dark green trinket that glittered in the bright sun; it was altogether out of place in the open, deserted plains.

"That looks strangely familiar," Jack muttered. He looked down at himself, and spotted the Elven brooch pinned to his cloak that he was given with the others in Lothlórien. "Ah, and that would be why," he said to himself.

"Not idly to leaves of Lórien fall," Aragorn said, a bright light within his eyes.

"They may yet be alive… or were when this was dropped," said Legolas.

Will nodded eagerly. "Let's get going then!" He immediately began moving once more.

Aragorn stood up and started running again as well. He noted throughout the day how the lands were all empty; most of the Rohirrim dwellings were in the south, but there were always some people in the Eastemnet, and yet even as they crossed the eastern plains of Rohan they came across no one. Soldiers or herdsmen were usually here throughout the year, but now the lands were empty and silent. Even as the Ranger mused they came upon a cliff, and from there the Company could see far ahead over the lands that they were to cross. They looked over a sea of green grass, and other than a boulder here and there, it was relatively flat. The bright blue sky hung above them and no life could be seen for miles.

"This is Rohan, the home of the Horse-lords," started Aragorn. "But this silence is unnatural, and I distrust it. I distrust even the pale Moon that hangs over this land, and the stars that are faint at night. There is something strange at work here. I am weary as I have seldom been before; weary as no Ranger should be with a clear trail to follow. There is some will that lends speed to these creatures and sets a barrier before us- sets its will against us."

Jack stood by his side. "You're right, mate," he said. "I thought it was only my lonesome self that felt so… pushed back, if you know what I mean. But if it isn't only myself… well, then, I can't say what it is."

"That I have known since first we came down from the river," Legolas said, "for that will is not behind us, but before us." He pointed away over the land of Rohan into the West.

"Saruman," muttered Aragorn. Jack sighed, stroking his chin.

"That wizard is causing more problems than I thought him capable of doing," he said. "Well, let's get on with this."

They ran without a break throughout the day and only stopped when the sun's last light had disappeared from the sky. The group, other than Legolas, fell asleep right away.

In the morning Legolas called them all awake; it was very likely that he had not slept at all. "A red sun rises; blood has been spilled this night," he said as they awoke.

"How poetic," Anamaria muttered. The run was truly wearing her down, and her exhaustion put her in a foul mood. "I've seen many red dawns in my time, and not once have I seen spilt blood related to it."

Aragorn shook his head. "There is no time for pondering. I for one agree with Legolas, for elves are known to be able to sense such things. But no matter; let us go!"

They were now many leagues from Parth Galen, the lawn upon the Anduin that they had landed on before the Fellowship was broken. Ahead and eastward were the windy uplands of the Wold, and northward, still ten leagues away, was the dark forest of Fangorn. Beyond that, far past the sight of mortals, was Methedras, the last peak of the Misty Mountains.

They had marched for no longer than two or three hours when they spotted something in the distance. Aragorn laid himself upon the ground and put his ear against it, trying to decipher what he saw. Legolas shaded his eyes and concentrated on whatever was approaching them.

"Riders!" cried Aragorn after a short moment, springing to his feet. "Many riders coming towards us!"

"Yes," started Legolas. "One hundred and five. Blonde hair, bright spears, and their leader is tall. Five of the horses, however, have empty saddles, and I see none of our friends among them."

Most of the group looked at Legolas in amazement, but Aragorn only laughed. "Keen are the eyes of the elves," he said.

"Nay, they are but five leagues away!"

"Five leagues or one, we cannot escape them in this bare land," said Gimli. "Do we wait, or go on our way?"

"We will wait," said Aragorn. "They may have news of our friends, or of our enemies."

"Or might be our enemies and skewer us where we stand," Jack pointed out.

"With what luck we've had recently, I would hope to keep such thoughts banished," replied Aragorn dryly. "Nonetheless, they are certainly Rohirrim by Legolas' description, and Rohan is not open to evil- if it was, then Middle-earth would certainly fall."

"That sounds wonderful," Jack countered, but offered no other comment.

Without further ado, they huddled behind some lone boulders to wait for the group's arrival. Only a short while had gone by when the riders began to pass them by, not seeing the six strangers who sat behind the stones.

The host had almost passed on when suddenly Aragorn stood up and walked into the open. "Riders of Rohan, what news from the North?" he called.

The Riders turned around and in an astonishing speed soon surrounded the six remaining members of the Fellowship. Once the horsemen completed the circle around them, they drew in closer and pointed their spears towards the strangers of Rohan. Aragorn held up his hands as a sign of peace, and Jack muttered 'parley'.

One man rode to the head of the group. He was tall and held himself like a leader; from his helm a white horsetail flowed. He advanced until the point of his spear was at Aragorn's breast, but Aragorn did not flinch.

"Who are you, and what business brings you and your companions into the Riddermark?" he asked. "Speak quickly!" he added, nodding to Aragorn.

"I am called Strider," he said, "and we are hunting a band of Uruk-hai."

The Rider leaped off his horse and approached Aragorn, sword in hand. He surveyed him for a moment. "You would have changed from hunters to prey to be tracking them in this fashion. But there is something strange about you, Strider," he added as he continued to take in his appearance. "That is no name for a man, and strange is your raiment. How did you escape our sight? Or did you spring out of the ground?"

"No," Aragorn said. "These cloaks helped us escape sight. They were given to us by the Lady of Lothlórien herself."

The Rider looked at them with renewed wonder, but his eyes hardened. "Few escape the Lady's nets, they say, and many call her a sorceress. But if you have her favor, then perhaps you are all sorcerers yourselves." He turned to the others. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?"

"I do not speak for I have yet to learn your name, horse-master," said Gimli. "Give it to me, and I shall give you mine, and more besides."

"The stranger should declare himself first," said the Rider. "But I am Éomer, Éomund's son, Third Marshal of the Riddermark."

"Then Éomer, son of Éomund, let Gimli son of Glóin warn you against foolish words. You speak evil about that which is far beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."

Éomer's eyes blazed and the Riders of Rohan muttered angrily as they looked at the dwarf. "I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground," Éomer said.

"You would die before your stroke fell," said Legolas in turn, bending his bow and fitting an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight.

Éomer raised his sword, but Aragorn sprang between them, lowering his friend's weapon. "Your pardon, Éomer!" he cried. "You will understand why you have angered my companions once you hear our tale. We mean no evil to Rohan. Would you not hear us before you strike?"

"I will," said Éomer, lowering his sword. "But strangers in the Riddermark would be wise to be lass haughty in these evil days. First tell me your right name."

"First tell me whom you serve," Aragorn countered. "Are you a friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"

"I serve only Théoden, son of Thengel, Lord of the Mark. We do not serve the Power of the Black Land. Now, who are you and whom do _you_ serve? At whose command do you hunt these Uruk-hai in our land?

"I serve no man," started Aragorn.

"And I will be dead before I serve any man," muttered Jack. Éomer heard his words and looked curiously upon the strange man, but turned back to Aragorn when he spoke again.

"I pursue the servants of Sauron wherever they go. I do not hunt them in this fashion from choice. They have taken three of our friends captive. In such haste a man that has no horse will go on foot, and he will ask for no leave to follow the trail. Nor will he count the heads of the enemy, unless it be with his sword. And I do not come weaponless." Aragorn threw back his cloak, and he unsheathed Andúril. It glimmered like a flame in the sunlight. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to Elendil of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken forged again! Will you aid me and my companions, or hinder us?"

Éomer looked at Aragorn with amazement. "Strange are these times. Legends spring out of the grass, as if real."

"And so they are real," said Aragorn as he sheathed his blade. "Sauron is regaining his strength and has alliances that will greatly challenge all the Free Peoples of Middle-earth. Open war lies before all of our friends, including your king. None may live now as they have before, and few shall keep what they call their own. But of these important matters we must speak of later. For now I ask for help, or for tidings. You heard that we were pursuing a band of Uruk-hai that held three of our friends. What can you tell us?"

"Only that the Uruks were destroyed; we slaughtered them during the night."

"And our friends?" Anamaria broke in before Aragorn could speak.

Éomer, whose attention had been on the others, seemed only to see Anamaria just then, and by his pause it was obvious that he seemed unsure what to make of the dark-skinned woman in this strange group. When she only looked at him expectantly, he merely replied, "We saw only Uruk-hai and orcs."

Will stepped up. "Did you see a woman? Or did you see two hobbits; they are small folk, who look at first sight like children."

Éomer shook his head. "We did not see them, and if they were there, they will not be anymore. We left none alive."

Jack and Anamaria glanced at Will as one; he became numb at the statement. Aragorn looked deeply into Éomer's eyes, the Ranger's gaze unreadable. Legolas and Gimli had equal looks of shock in their expressions.

"Dead?" Gimli finally asked.

Éomer shortly nodded. "I am sorry. We were bent on destroying these foul creatures, and never before have we heard of them taking captives. They were nearing their destination, and we did not take time in distinguishing individuals in the horde."

"They were headed for Isengard," Legolas murmured.

Éomer nodded. "Yes. Saruman we once thought our ally, but now I see he is a traitor. He has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company is of those who are loyal to Rohan, and for that, we are banished. There are more, of course, but further off, nearer to Isengard."

"How many?" asked Aragorn, his voice even and his expression eerily calm.

"Two thousand, at least." The young man paused for a moment. "But not as many as I had hoped. Saruman has enslaved the minds of too many in this country." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. Everywhere his spies slip past our nets, and his birds of ill omen are abroad in the sky. Watch out for him."

They were silent for a moment as they took in this information. Finally, Anamaria spoke, changing the subject once more to the captives; she refused to think them dead without complete proof. "You did not see our friends, so you cannot be sure if they- if they are well?"

Éomer shook his head. "All I can say is that we killed all within the camp that night. We piled the carcasses and burned them, but among the dead we saw neither children nor women- though it was dark," he ended with an apologetic expression.

Will only let out a strangled cry, his hope for his wife and her well-being swiftly fading. Éomer glanced at him sympathetically.

The captain of _The Black Pearl_ was not as hopeless as his companion. "So our mates weren't around the orcs anymore, eh? We ran all the way from that river for nothing," Jack commented idly to no one in particular. "Bloody wonderful."

"What river?" asked the Rohir captain.

"The Anduin," replied Aragorn.

Éomer looked upon him again with great wonder. "On foot?" The Ranger nodded. "Strider is too poor a name for you, son of Arathorn. Wingfoot I name you, for you and your companions have traveled forty leagues and five, and that is no short distance." Jack and Anamaria looked at each other, clearly impressed with their feat. Will was deep in his own sorrow and paid no attention to the scene around him, for he could not convince himself that his wife had somehow escaped the slaughter, body or no body. Gimli and Legolas looked nearly as hopeless as the blacksmith and did not heed Éomer's words; was there any chance that their friends were alive after such a thorough slaughter?

Éomer saw their pain and he stopped speaking. After a short moment in thought, he whistled and beckoned for five of the rider-less horses to be brought over.

"One will have to be shared between two, for this is all we have to spare," said Éomer.

"I am no rider and prefer my own feet," said Gimli.

"Come, you can share with me," Legolas said. "You cannot walk for you will fall behind." Gimli did not look happy at the thought of riding, but he agreed to share with the elf.

Jack and Anamaria glanced at one another. They had ridden a horse only once, and that was at the Barrow-downs many months ago, when they were in no great hurry. They dared not think about how well they would do on these horses in great haste. And while they said nothing, both wondered how Will would manage when he was so distracted.

"They are Hasufel, Arod, Ceorl, Nithhad, and Wistan. May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell." Éomer climbed back onto his own steed. "Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands." With that, he and his Riders rode away.

* * *

Man le trasta, mellon nín?: What troubles you, my friend?  
Nâ han sin-: It is just-

I am not sure if all of my Sindarin is correct. If you know of any corrections I can place on my text, I would be most obliged if you would tell me :-) Some are not the exact meanings, as I could not find the exact word for it.


	18. Unexpected Hope

Chapter 18: Unexpected Hope

After the Riders of Rohan departed, the six companions took their own leave. Aragorn rode Hasufel, Arod was shared between Legolas and Gimli, Ceorl Anamaria took, Nithhad was given to Jack, and Wistan was left to Will. They sat on top of the steeds, Aragorn and Legolas with more confidence than the others, and kicked their horses into a canter towards Fangorn.

Will was holding on as hard as he could to the reins, his legs pressed tightly against Wistan. He attempted to keep his thoughts on just staying on and not on what they might find. Jack and Anamaria were following Will's example, obviously very uncomfortable on their horses. Gimli clutched Legolas, feeling extremely awkward and, worse, helpless on the beast. Legolas and Aragorn noticed the others' discomfort and remained slow enough for their companions to keep up.

Despite their worries, the horses of Rohan were well trained to not let their riders fall, and by the end of the afternoon they came upon the burning carcasses of what used to be fierce, man-hunting Uruk-hai. Their bodies were piled up in one great mound and on a stake in front of it was a head of an Uruk, left to warn all of Rohan's enemies. The group winced at the awful stench the decaying corpses produced. Beyond the mound lay the great forest of Fangorn; what creatures or magic dwelt inside the wood none could properly say. The forest was not on their minds, however, for they only thought about one thing at this hour.

They immediately jumped off their horses and began searching the area. Gimli, Jack, and Will went through the burning bodies, while Aragorn explored the grounds for any signs of what may have happened to their friends. Legolas and Anamaria stayed with the horses and kept them calm among the dead.

They searched for perhaps an hour, though none could exactly say how long they looked. The sun was sinking below the horizon and soon all searching would have to be halted for the night. Before the last tendrils of day faded, Gimli suddenly gasped and moved something aside. Gingerly he picked up a belt; it was unaffected by the bonfire, and the silver glistened in the waning sunlight. It looked strangely familiar.

"It is one of the hobbits' belts," he whispered, the sorrow evident in his voice.

"Perhaps it was just one of them…?" Anamaria asked uncertainly and half-heartedly. No one responded to her; none of their companions would have left one of their friends behind, and even one death was too terrible to comprehend, not after all those they had lost thus far. As it was, the three would not leave one of their friends behind; they would all rather face death first. It seemed as if that was exactly what occurred.

Legolas bowed his head, and quietly he muttered, "_Hiro hain hîdh ab 'wanath_." Jack stood up, took off his hat, and bowed his head in respect alongside Legolas.

"What does that mean?" Will demanded, standing up quickly. Legolas did not dare look him in the eye. "What does that mean!" he yelled angrily as he stormed over to him. Jack stopped him before he did anything he would regret later. The other man at first struggled as he tried to escape Jack's firm grasp, but soon he gave up, and all of his weariness and grief crashed upon him. He collapsed onto the burnt grass and wept. Jack, after only a brief moment of hesitation, sat down beside him and gently grasped his shoulder in silent support.

Aragorn watched Will blankly for a short moment before he screamed in fury and grief, kicking a stray helmet aside. He fell to the ground, deep in sorrow, even as the sun set behind the mountains far away.

"We failed them," Gimli murmured after a moment's silence as the first star of the night twinkled high in the sky.

O0O0O0O

It was too dark to depart, so they made camp under the boughs of a great chestnut on the borders of Fangorn. As night came, the late winter air from the Misty Mountains chilled them.

Gimli shivered. For the last half hour there was no conversation, and he knew that somehow their minds needed to be taken away from the tragedy, lest they drowned in their sadness. "Let us light a fire," he suggested. "I care not if the orcs comes as moths to a lighted candle!" Jack nodded in agreement.

"Very well, but be wary to not take any living wood! Only take remains of the wood left by the Riders," Aragorn said, but he did not raise his head as he spoke. Gimli only nodded and started collecting firewood. Anamaria soon joined him, trying to keep her mind occupied on the tedious task and her emotions in check. Aragorn leaned against the chestnut, deep in his own thoughts, lines of sorrow etched on his face. Legolas stood a little away with the horses, watching the forest with great interest. He absentmindedly stroked one of the steeds.

Jack glanced at Will concernedly. The man had not spoken a word to anyone since the tragic discovery concerning his two small friends and his wife. The older man walked over to him, but Will did not acknowledge his presence.

"Will, go help Gimli and Anamaria collect firewood. It'll help you take your mind off of things," he said. Will minutely shook his head, keeping his head down and his thoughts to himself. Jack shrugged and left Will alone, but deep down he remained concerned.

Gimli and Anamaria soon returned with enough firewood for a decent fire. Gimli kindled it and soon flames were licking the chilly spring air. The Company, emotionally weary or not, was thankful for the warmth.

Legolas glanced above them. "Look!" he said. "The tree is glad of the fire!" They looked up, and indeed, it seemed as if the boughs of the tree were bending this way and that as if to be closer to the warmth. Jack nervously grabbed his hat, still recalling the less-than-cheerful experience with Old Man Willow so many months ago in the Old Forest. He had decided long ago that he did not like moving trees.

After a short, meager supper, they decided to obtain as much rest as they could. It was Anamaria's turn to take the first watch and she kept close to the fire as the others laid themselves down.

"Anamaria," Aragorn called to her drowsily. "Remember, it is perilous to cut living bough or twig from a tree of Fangorn. But do not stray far in search of dead wood. Let the fire die rather! Call me if you are in need." With that, he fell asleep.

The others soon fell asleep after him. Jack had his hat tipped over his head and Will was further away, leaning against one of the further sides of the chestnut. Gimli's heavy breathing kept her awake, and every now and then he would mutter something in Dwarvish and fidget as if in an uneasy sleep. Legolas had his eyes wide open, a glassy look upon them. She was still not used to the fact that elves slept with their eyes open; she had encountered this fact one unfortunate night in Rivendell. By now, it did not disturb her as much as it used to, but she still found it slightly disconcerting.

She twiddled with her fingers, a habit that she caught from Jack some time ago. Soon she became bored with twiddling, and to entertain herself she hummed a couple of songs under her breath, counted as many leaves on the tree above her as she could, and tried to make out what Gimli was saying every now and then, though that task turned out to be impossible.

It was a couple of hours into her watch when she suddenly spotted something nearby. On the edge of the forest, just within the fire's light, she could make out what looked to be an old man. He was leaning on a staff and wrapped in a great cloak, and he wore a wide-brimmed hat that hid his eyes from sight. She jumped up to her feet and stared, too surprised to cry out. Both Aragorn and Legolas woke and sat up quickly at her sudden movement; Jack, Will, and Gimli were not far behind them. They too stared at the sight, too startled to speak. He made no sign or movement, and he did not say a word.

"Well, father, what can we do for you?" asked Aragorn when he regained control of his thoughts, leaping to his feet. "Come closer to the fire, if you are cold!" He strode forward, but the old man was gone within a blink of an eye. There was no trace left of him.

Suddenly, Legolas cried aloud, "The horses! The horses are gone!"

They turned around to where the horses once were, and indeed, there was not one horse left. In the distance, the sound of whinnying and neighing broke through the night, and then all was silent.

The group was speechless for a moment. It was Jack who broke the silence. "This is a _wonderful_ turn of events."

Aragorn grimaced. "We have had a strike of ill-fortune. We cannot catch them, and we may only see them again if they return on their own free will. So we must do without. We started with our feet, and will end with our feet, unless our luck turns." Anamaria and Jack groaned silently and Legolas looked disappointed. Will was not listening, or so it seemed to them. Only Gimli was happy with the fact that they did not need to ride, but he was not thinking about the horses anymore.

"If you wish to know what I think," started the dwarf, "I think it was Saruman who was here. Who else would it be? Remember Éomer's words: 'he walks about like an old man, hooded and cloaked'. I am sure it was him, spying on us, and it was he who went off with those beasts!"

Will suddenly looked up at Gimli's firm statement. There was a gleam of madness in his eyes. "Saruman…" he muttered. It was the first word he had spoken that night. "Saruman!" Suddenly he stood up and began quickly striding over to where the old man had stood but a moment ago. He drew his sword and picked up his pace.

Jack's eyes widened in surprise and he hurriedly sprang up, immediately following the young man. "Will!" he shouted. Will did not pay him any attention. Jack rolled his eyes and simply broke into a sprint. He swiftly caught up with him and grabbed the blacksmith by the shoulder; Will sprang around abruptly, his sword narrowly missing Jack's abdomen.

Jack held up his hands in amity. "Now, we don't want to repeat what happened a year ago," he warned.

Will shook his head. "No, we do not. So, if you will excuse me, I will avenge Elizabeth's death."

"Mate, we don't even know if it is Saruman," Jack pointed out, springing out in front of the man.

"Get out of my way, Jack," Will growled. "He stole my life, and I shall steal his."

"Boy, you don't want to be doing anything… stupid."

"Stupid! You believe this is stupid, Jack? Let me define stupid for you: giving up the Isla de Muerta's location to Barbossa, only to be stranded on an island; stealing the _Dauntless_ for a so-called surprise honeymoon just to end up in another _world_!"

Jack frowned. "Alright, let us describe stupid: drawing a sword against me the first time we met; giving up your real name to one that hunts you when your friend says not to do anything stupid!"

"Friend? Friend! A friend would not give up his friend for a ship!"

"No, he wouldn't, because he had no actual _intentions_ of doing so!"

"Being knocked out by a beer bottle!"

"Springing a pirate from jail for a wench!"

"That 'wench' is Elizabeth, and if you speak about her as such again, I shall-"

"Shall do what, mate?" Jack said softly as he drew his gun. "What shall you do? I would love to know."

Anamaria stood up. "Enough!" she screamed. Both turned to glare at her menacingly. She ignored them. "I swear I'll kill you both before this night ends if you don't shut it!"

Aragorn was also on his feet, obviously ready to intervene. "End this pointless quarrel now and rest. The events of these past days have made us strained and irrational."

"Fine," said Jack. "He's not worth my time." He sheathed his pistol, shot one last glare at the young man, and went back to the fire. Will withdrew to the farthest side of the chestnut tree and kept once more to himself.

Legolas sighed softly as he glanced upon his friends, but spoke nothing about it. "The woods are unquiet and they speak to me, making it impossible to sleep in peace. I will take the next watch." None of them argued with this, and soon again they were all asleep once more. Legolas stayed awake the rest of the night, and nothing more disturbed the remaining members of the Fellowship.

O0O0O0O

The next morning they awoke to a cold dawn. Gimli stamped his feet upon the hard ground, attempting to keep warm. Anamaria quietly handed out small pieces of _lembas_ bread for breakfast. Aragorn quickly ate the bread and began searching the earth for any signs of the old man they saw last night, while Legolas looked out into the distance for any sign of their horses. Will and Jack, in the meanwhile, attempted to stay as far away from one other as possible.

Gimli looked over to where Aragorn scanned still for tracks. "You will not find any, Aragorn," he said glumly. "It was an evil phantom of Saruman that we saw last night. I am sure of it, even under the light of the morning."

"It is likely enough, but I am not sure," responded Aragorn. "I was thinking about the horses. Legolas, did they sound to you as beasts in terror?"

"No," replied Legolas, shaking his head. "They did not sound as such. It was clear enough; they sounded as if they were… glad, as if they had met a friend. It is very puzzling. But whatever happened to the horses, I do know this: they are far off. I can see them nowhere on the plains."

"Strange," Jack muttered. He nibbled on his piece of the waybread absentmindedly. "Perhaps Saruman had a lovely lady horse?" Anamaria snorted softly at the statement, but the others were still too solemn even to attempt a smile. Jack did not seem perturbed by the lack of response and simply walked over to the bonfire, which had cooled off a bit over the night. They were well used to the smell now and so he did not heed it as he looked over the many bodies.

Jack glanced away from the corpses and onto the stray weapons that somehow did not end in the pile. Bending down, he picked one of the Uruk's blades and examined it. Roughly made, no fine craftsmanship, and extremely heavy. He threw it to the ground and looked at more of the stray items on the earth. A broken knife, a lone armguard, an arm, some chain mail, and- what was that?

He bent down and gingerly picked something up. It was a broken _mallorn_ leaf, golden in hue and turning brown at the edges. He frowned. This same wrapping covered their _lembas_ bread- part of their meager food supply.

"Hey, which one of you has been eating more _lembas_?" he called to the others, annoyance lacing his tone. They turned to look at him, confusion written on all of their faces.

Aragorn even looked up from his tracking to frown. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean this." He held up the _mallorn_ leaf to Aragorn. The Dúnadan's frown deepened and he sprang up and ran over to the other man. Gently he took the leaf in his hand and shook his head.

"This cannot be; no one ate any waybread over here. And this seems older than what we opened this morning, as if it has been here a while." He frowned, bent down, and scanned the ground throughout that area. Jack stepped away while everyone else, including Will, came closer, curious to see what Aragorn would discover.

The Ranger lifted his head mid-search and held in his hand a couple of crumbs. "These are not from today," he murmured. "Nay, it looks as if this is from our friends! And look!" He hurried over to his right and lifted up a coarse, dirt-covered rope, which looked as if it were cut. "Here are some of their cords that bound them! And the knife that cut the bonds!" He laid down the rope and carefully lifted a short, jagged blade.

"Well, here is the strangest riddle we have yet found!" exclaimed Legolas. "A bound prisoner escapes both from the orcs and the Riders as they battle, and then he stops while still in the open, and cuts his bonds with an orc-knife. Then he sits down quietly, somehow avoiding the battle, and decides to have a bit of waybread! We all know that orcs wouldn't touch _lembas_ bread, so we can clearly assume it was Pippin, Merry, Elizabeth, or all three. And then, the battle moves here, and his tracks mysteriously disappear. I suppose he just sprouted wings and flew away, singing in the trees!"

"That would be interesting," Jack said thoughtfully as he imagined Elizabeth, Merry, and Pippin with wings for arms and beaks for mouths.

Will did not pay attention to the other's words. He was looking at Aragorn with a renewed hope in his eyes. "Then there is a chance that they may yet be alive?" he asked.

Aragorn only nodded as he began inspecting the ground once more. "Search around for anything else that may tell us what happened to our friends."

At once, everyone started looking again. Will and Gimli searched the banks of the river Entwash, while Jack and Legolas studied the borders of Fangorn, and Anamaria and Aragorn searched the battleground. About five minutes later, Gimli called out to the others. They ran over and he pointed to the ground, where they could see several tracks on the muddy banks; at once Aragorn looked them over closely. Suddenly, Will yelled in triumph from a few feet away, and in his hand he held a piece of torn cloth. They were silent as they studied it over.

"That's from…" Anamaria started slowly, as if a bit uncertain.

"Elizabeth's clothing," he finished. "I am sure of it! They were here; they escaped!"

Aragorn nodded. "So it seems. It seems there was at least one hobbit and a pair of smaller boots here… a woman's size. It looks like the tracks lead away from the battle and into Fangorn Forest. And we shall go in after them."

"Let us go now!" Will cried, undaunted by the menacing shadows of the trees.

Jack, Gimli, and Anamaria glanced at one another uncertainly. The trees did not look too friendly, and the large, dark, entangled roots about them seemed as if they were warning them to keep away. The three did not protest, however, and in silent resignation grabbed their packs. Will had already crossed the Entwash and was on the other side, waiting for them on the borders of the forest with open impatience. Legolas sprang lightly across and he waited with Will, not at all concerned with Fangorn and whatever lay inside. Aragorn looked up into the towering trees, sighed, and crossed the shallow river.

Anamaria crossed the river with Jack and Gimli behind her. As she was halfway across, she slipped on a loose stone and instinctively grabbed for the closest thing nearby, which happened to be Jack. They both slipped, and plummeted into the shallow waters. They came out, slightly shivering and soaking wet, but their fire was already out and Will would wait no longer.

After they all crossed, Jack and Anamaria glummer than before, they entered the dark forest, hoping to find their friends alive and well.

* * *

A/N: Hiro hain hîdh ab 'wanath: Let them find peace after death. The original 'hyn' was substituted for 'hain' because 'hyn' only refers to males, not females. 'Hain' is both genders, I believe.


	19. Light Beyond the Darkness

Chapter 19: Light Beyond the Darkness

They plunged into the darkness that swallowed Fangorn. Little sunlight managed to emerge through the entangled branches above, and when it did, it came as mere slivers of illumination and nothing more. It was not so dark, however, as that they could not see. They could see just fine, though their sights were filled with overgrown trees, unruly branches, and mangled roots. The Company did not dare speak to one another in a voice louder than a whisper. There was something in Fangorn that made it seem necessary to speak in hushed tones- there was something within the atmosphere that did not want to be disturbed.

Their companions' tracks followed the Entwash for a while, and Aragorn read them with ease as the others followed and kept a wary eye on their surroundings. Deeper and deeper they went into Fangorn, speaking little, their eyes watching and ears listening.

Aragorn suddenly stopped. He dropped to his knees and frowned as he studied the trail before him. "There are strange tracks here that merge with the others. I cannot tell what sort of beast made them. They are unlike anything I have ever seen."

"Anything could be in here," Anamaria muttered as she glanced around her surroundings. "This reminds me of the Old Forest, and I didn't like it in there." Jack nodded in silent agreement as he fiddled with his pistol.

"Aye," agreed Gimli. "I don't like it in here either, lass. The air is so close in here, and it seems…" He paused, as if trying to find the correct word.

Legolas looked up at the trees. "Old. The forest is old, very old. So old that I almost feel young again. This place is filled with many memories, many grievances, and much anger." As he finished that thought, numerous creaks and groans filled the forest, though when they came together they almost sounded like one great entity. Jack drew his pistol, Will and Anamaria brandished their swords, and Gimli held up his axe. "The trees are speaking to each other!" Legolas cried softly, looking around at the branches in wonder.

Aragorn turned to the others, who were looking around at the forest both suspiciously and fearfully. "Lower your weapons!" he demanded. They did as he commanded, some with more reluctance than others.

Legolas turned to them. "They have feelings, my friends," he said. "The elves began it, waking them up… teaching them to speak."

"You taught the trees to _talk_?" Anamaria asked, clearly unconvinced.

"Not myself, but my ancestors, and the eldest among my kin," responded Legolas.

"Your kin should've just let them 'sleep'," Jack said, keeping a close eye on the trees. "They are a bloody nuisance. Almost killed Will's lady love, and you know how he can be touchy when it comes to her." Will's eyes narrowed, but rather retort he merely shoved his way past him to join Aragorn. "See what I mean?" Jack said to Anamaria. She merely rolled her eyes.

Gimli glanced at Legolas exasperatedly. "Of course. Talking trees, I should have known. Elves and their trees." He rolled his eyes upwards. "What do trees have to talk about?"

"They seem to spend most of the time planning evil things for those who walk on two feet," Anamaria answered in an exaggeratedly casual tone of voice. "They do seem to enjoy doing that."

Legolas was about to retort, but Aragorn held up a hand. "Quiet!" He seemed to be listening intently to something.

The elf frowned and quickly joined the Ranger. He too listened carefully to the wood about them and his cheerful continence completely disappeared. "Aragorn, _nad no ennas_!"

"_Man cenich_?" the Ranger asked.

Legolas seemed to be listening to the trees. He did not answer right away, but when he did, all other members of the group immediately tensed. "The White Wizard approaches."

"We must not let him speak; he will put a spell on us," Aragorn murmured to the others.

"Saruman," Will whispered. He started drawing out his sword; it took all the willpower he could muster not to jump out and immediately charge at his enemy. Jack put a hand on his pistol, and Anamaria laid her own hand on her sword's hilt. Gimli tightened his grip on his axe, Aragorn slowly started drawing Andúril, and Legolas already had an arrow nocked.

"We must be quick," Aragorn muttered. The others were still as they waited for his command. "Now!" he cried.

They turned as one and found themselves facing a blinding light. Legolas let an arrow fly and Gimli threw a small hatchet; their foe deflected both. The swords and the pistol suddenly burned as if they were on fire, and the others of the Company quickly dropped them. Now weaponless, all they could do was put their hands to their eyes and try to block the light.

After a moment, they could make out a shape in the brightness. It was hard to tell who he was, but what they could see was a staff, a long flowing beard, and white robes. By earlier descriptions, they knew that these were all elements of Saruman's. Will wished to rush him and strangle him with his bare hands, but a great force held him back. That same force held all of his companions and made them motionless and unable to speak.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits and a woman," he began. His voice was veiled and it was hard to decipher. "Yes, hobbits. Do not stare as if you have never heard of that strange name before, for I know you have."

Aragorn did not bother to deny it; their facial expressions did not fool the old man. He found his voice and so he went for a direct approach. "Where are they?"

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" From the bright light they could see a pair of great, intelligent eyes looking down upon them.

Aragorn did not answer his question. "Who are you?" The old man remained silent. "Show yourself!" the Dúnadan demanded.

To the surprise of them all, the being in the light obeyed and stepped forward. The brightness behind him dimmed, but he still shone as if he were made of the light of the dawn. His white hair glistened as brightly as his robes and the tip of his staff shone like the tip of a snowy mountain bathed in sunlight. It was his eyes, however, that captured the attention of the Company. They were familiar eyes, only they were now filled with more wisdom than before. At once, the remaining members of the Fellowship knew who he was, but once again they were left speechless, for the sight before them was beyond possibility.

"Mithrandir," Legolas finally muttered. He fell on his knees and bowed his head before the wizard. "Forgive me. I mistook you as Saruman."

"I am Saruman," he started, "or rather Saruman as he should have been."

Aragorn could only shake his head as he approached him. "Gandalf? Is it truly you?"

The old man turned to him with a small smile. "Gandalf? Oh, yes, that was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey, that was my name. And yes, son of Arathorn, I am here, but not as Grey. Now I am Gandalf the White. But come now!" he said suddenly turning to the others, "would you not tell me of yourselves and how you have fared since we parted?"

The stunned silence that had overtaken them fell away from the others, and while his question was unanswered, they proceeded to ask many questions of their own. He simply blew them off and rather started walking southwards, back towards the flat plains of Rohan from which they had come from. "It is a long way, and we might as well tell all tales to tell on the journey. Come along, then!"

They began their journey out of the forest and exchanged stories of the happenings throughout the last few weeks. When Gandalf was told of the death of Boromir and Gibbs, he was grieved. "Poor Boromir," he muttered. "It was a sore trial for him, he who was a warrior and lord among men. The Lady told me she foresaw evil, but even I could not imagine how it would end; but he escaped in the end, and for that, I am glad. And Gibbs, he entered a battle that was not his and gave his life for our cause. His sacrifice will not be forgotten. May their spirits rest in peace."

Once they were done telling their tale, Gimli broke in. "There is one thing I must know," he started. "Was it you or Saruman we saw last night when the horses disappeared?"

"You certainly did not see me," Gandalf said with a raised brow, "so I imagine that you saw Saruman, or at least some form of him."

Will frowned darkly, still wishing he could see Saruman and kill him for himself. Pushing his dark thoughts aside, he rather turned to Gandalf and asked, "Do you know anything of our friends? Of my wife? _Anything_ at all?"

Gandalf smiled understandingly at the man. "Do not worry, they are all quite safe. Your wife is in good hands now." He paused for a moment. "I do believe, though, that they were brought here for a reason. The coming of those three to Fangorn will be like the falling of small stones that start an avalanche in the mountains."

"If there is one thing that you have not changed in, my dear friend," started Aragorn with a teasing smile, "it is that you still speak in riddles."

Gandalf looked at him as if shocked. "Indeed? Let me make myself clearer then." He looked up into the trees, which were creaking and groaning before him. "Something is about to happen which has not happened since the Elder Days: the Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."

Anamaria looked at the wizard quizzically. "What is an 'Ent'?"

"A tree herder, a shepherd of the forest. Merry, Pippin, and Elizabeth are now with the Ent Treebeard; he is the eldest of all the Ents and the guardian of Fangorn," Gandalf said.

"Trees need shepherds, eh?" Jack thought aloud with a raised brow. "Likely because the bloody elves made them walk around," he added under his breath.

Legolas ignored Jack and instead turned to Gandalf. "You have told us of what befell Merry, Pippin, and Elizabeth; what about yourself? What happened in Moria?"

A shadow passed over Gandalf's face, and he was silent as they walked. Finally, he muttered, "I fell with him, and we plummeted down to the foundations of stone. I remember falling through fire and water. I remember pursuing the demon from the depths of the earth to the light of day. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. On top of Celebdil we fought, until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside.

"Darkness took me, and I strayed out of all thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and everyday was as long as a life age of the world. But it was not the end, for suddenly as I felt myself passing, Gwaihir the Windlord-"

"Who?" Anamaria interrupted.

If he was annoyed by the interruption, he did not indicate it. "The Lord of Eagles. He also bore me away from Isengard when I was held captive there. From the mountain he carried me to Lothlórien, where I found life within me again, and there I was clothed in white. Counsel I gave, and counsel I took. By strange roads I came, and messages I bring to you from the Lady of the Golden Wood. To Aragorn I was bidden to say this:

_Where now are the Dúnedain, Elessar, Elessar?_  
_Why do thy kinsfolk wander afar?_  
_Near is the hour when the Lost should come forth,_  
_And the Grey Company ride from the North._  
_But dark is the path appointed for thee:_  
_The Dead watch the road that leads to the Sea._

To Legolas she sent this word:

_Legolas Greenleaf long under tree_  
_In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea!_  
_If thou hearest cry of the gull on the shore,_  
_Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more._

'_To Gimli son of Glóin_,' she said, '_give his Lady's greeting. Lock-bearer, wherever thou goest my thought goes with thee. But have a care to lay thine axe to the right tree!_'

To Anamaria she said, '_Daughter of Man, I see struggles on thy path ahead. But when all who thou lovest are apart, just remember to follow thy heart_.'

To Will she sent this message:

_Thy love is great, but much more will it be_  
_Perilous to thou and to those around thee;_  
_For if thou let it overcome thy soul,_  
_Thy love's funeral bells will soon toll._

And to Jack she bade me to tell this:

_If thou hearest this, thy temptation is past,_  
_yet thy future is not yet cast._  
_For if thy past conquers thee again,_  
_Darkness will come upon the world of Men._

Gandalf fell silent. The group quietly pondered the meaning of their messages, though they were not completely clear and only foreshadowed events that may come.

Legolas shut his eyes. "Dark are her words," said he, "and little do they mean to those that receive them."

"Aye," Jack agreed, but silently he was rather certain what she meant by his past. She was the only one in Middle-earth who knew that he was a pirate before coming here, and he doubted that the others would take well to it.

The others remained silent as they contemplated her words further. Finally, Will broke away from his thoughts and asked, "Where now do we head?" He paused, and added hopefully, "Do we go to the others?"

Gandalf shook his head. "No, they will be safe with Treebeard at the time. But do not fret! You will see her, and the others, hopefully soon. But for now, the first stage of your journey is over, and another begins. Saruman has made war upon Rohan, and we must go to Edoras with all the speed we can."

"Edoras? That is no short distance, especially on foot," Gimli stated. "Our horses ran off the night before, when Saruman came."

Gandalf turned back to the others. As they had exchanged stories, they covered a great distance and were now near the borders of the wood. "That you need not worry about, Master Dwarf," he said with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, but the other did not answer. "Ah, splendid. A cryptic wizard. Just what I wanted."

"As you know," started Aragorn to Gandalf, "before we came here we met with an _éored_ of riders. Saruman still has his will over the king, and things go ill with Rohan."

"Yes," he agreed, "and King Théoden will not be easily cured. We must go with haste."

"How far is it to this Edoras?" Anamaria asked.

"A bit over forty leagues, as the crow flies."

She sighed. "This is going to be one bloody long walk."

At long last, they reached the end of the wood and emerged into the open. They looked around and saw, predictably, that the horses were not there.

"They have not returned. It will be a weary walk!" said Gimli.

Gandalf shook his head. "I shall not walk. Time presses." The others watched the wizard as he strode a few paces ahead. Suddenly, he let out a long, shrill whistle.

A moment later they heard the neighs of several horses. Legolas peered into the distance and his face lit up. "They have returned! They are all here!" All five horses were back, being led by a great horse. Silver his coat shone in the late morning light, and fast his hooves beat upon the earth. The elf looked upon the leading horse with open admiration. "That is one of the _Mearas_, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

The horses came to them, and the others were stunned by the strange horse's beauty. He held his head high and bore himself as if he were of a noble lineage.

"Shadowfax," said Gandalf. "He is the lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers." He gently stroked the side of the steed's head, the animal neighing in acknowledgement.

"Well, that clears up the mystery of the horses," said Gimli. "I suppose they sensed this fellow about and ran to meet him."

"A good thing nothing happened to them," Jack added casually, striding over to Nithhad. He mounted him and gave the beast a loving pat. "Such a nice horse."

"I never knew you held such affection for horses," Will said lightly. Jack glanced at him, unsure as to whether the other man was joking or not. Will seemed much happier once he heard that the others- most especially his wife- were safe. Jack quickly decided that it did not really matter and that he did not care much if the man was still in a bad mood, so his only answer was to scratch the horse affectionately on the head.

The others climbed up on their steeds, Gimli with Legolas once more, and soon they began to ride southwards towards Edoras.

* * *

Nad no ennas!: Something is out there.  
Man cenich?: What do you see?

A/N: The messages for Anamaria, Jack, and Will were written by me 11/22/08, and are different from the ones in the original version of this chapter due to changes in the story. The messages for the canon characters are from The Two Towers, Book III, Chapter Five: 'The White Rider'.


	20. Edoras

Chapter 20: Edoras

For several hours they rode through the plains, never straying off course, Shadowfax always leading them down the safest and smoothest ways. They rode on through sunset and part of the night until finally, when the moon was high above their heads in the misty sky, they stopped to rest for a few hours. Jack, Gimli, Anamaria, and Will practically fell to the ground in exhaustion, and went into a deep sleep right away. Legolas lightly sprang off Arod and, for the first time in many a night, rested without fear. Aragorn and Gandalf quietly conversed for a short while, though what was said between them was not discussed with the others.

Around five hours past midnight Gandalf had them roused from slumber. Aragorn had fallen asleep soon after their conversation, for even he was weary. None of them, other than Gandalf and Legolas, felt ready for another long period of riding. The elf first went to Aragorn as Gandalf prepared the horses. He lightly tapped his shoulder and the man opened his eyes.

"We are leaving," said Legolas.

The other yawned and slowly sat up, rubbing his neck and slightly wincing as he did.

"Sleep in a bad position, my friend?" asked the prince with a slight smile.

"Yes," Aragorn said shortly, "though an elf would not know the pains we mortals so often experience," he added evenly, but his lips twitched as he spoke.

"Of course not. We elves have perfected the art of sleeping," Legolas smiled. "Come, help me arouse the others."

"The task you set before me is as daunting as having me face many hungry wolves without a weapon," the Ranger muttered as he stood up.

"But you have a weapon; surely they will be persuaded by it?" Aragorn chuckled and went to awaken Anamaria as Legolas went to Will.

"Anamaria," Aragorn called lightly in her ear. She gave no response. "Anamaria?" he called again. No response. He lightly tapped her shoulder, calling her name once more. All she did was turn around the other way. He exhaled lightly; this was going to be difficult.

Legolas was not having much luck, either. The insufferable mortal would not wake! He was not even giving any sort of response to his light taps and calls. The elf sighed as he once again called Will's name, this time shaking his shoulder as he did so.

Will swatted him away and rolled on his side, his back facing Legolas. The elf glanced exasperatedly at Aragorn, who also was having no luck.

"Why don't we wake Jack instead?" suggested Legolas.

Aragorn sighed. "Hopefully he will not be as stubborn as his companions."

Fortunately for them, Jack was not. Unfortunately for them, he thought them enemies pawing at him and he nearly shot them. Fortunately for them, he did not grab his gun quick enough in his weariness.

Legolas held Jack's arm. "_Sedho, mellon_," he said.

Jack opened his eyes. "What's that mean?" he asked.

"Be still, friend."

"Ah. You'd better have a good reason waking a man up at this indecent hour. If said reason was Elvish lessons, you'll find yourself without a head very soon."

Legolas' lips twitched as Aragorn answered his question. "We need to leave."

"Already?" he asked. "Bah. Wake me at dawn." He turned around to fall asleep once more.

Aragorn easily stepped over to his other side to face him again. "We must go now."

The other man kept his eyes closed, but when Aragorn shoved him back onto his back, he uttered a curse and sat up. "I'm up! You'll pay for that, you know."

"I am sure," replied Aragorn dryly. "Now help us awaken the others. They are less than willing to heed our calls."

Jack's dark glare suddenly disappeared. "Now _that_ I will do gladly." The man climbed up onto his feet and strode casually over to Will. He bent down, put his mouth close to his ear, and shouted, "Wake up, you lazy dog!" Will awoke with a start, nearly punching Jack in his tired bewilderment. Jack easily managed to avoid him and maintained his innocence as the other man sat up.

"Dear God! What did you do that for?" the man asked, rubbing his ear as if it hurt.

The other's eyebrows rose. "Don't blame me, mate; _they_ ordered me to do it," said Jack, nodding over to Aragorn and Legolas.

Will snorted in disbelief. "You don't take orders." The other only shrugged, so Will turned his attention to the other two. "Why are we leaving so early?"

"Gandalf says we need to move on," Aragorn replied. "We must reach Edoras before sundown today." Will only nodded sleepily and pulled himself up. Gimli had been awoken by Jack's loud shout and, while muttering curses under his breath, made no attempt to go back to sleep; the only one who remained sleeping was Anamaria, but it was a light sleep and even now she was stirring.

Jack knelt down beside the woman as she muttered, half-asleep, "We at port, Captain?"

"Almost there, love," he replied with a coy smile. "But you need to be getting up now."

"Wake me when we're at port," she retorted, rolling sideways and away from him. The man rolled his eyes and instead bent down, whispering into her ear something inaudible to the others. Those observing the two were surprised when Anamaria promptly sat up and slapped Jack across the face. The look on his face was pure bewilderment.

"Not sure if I deserved that," he said to them.

"You bloody know well you did," she retorted. She stood up and looked at the sky with a frown. "What time is it?"

"Early," said Aragorn. "We need to leave now so we will reach Edoras today." She looked annoyed at the fact that she was awakened so early, but only gave him a short nod and quickly packed her few supplies.

Once they were ready, they mounted their horses once more and began towards Edoras. Their pace remained steady as they rode on through the early morning darkness and through dawn, never taking a moment to rest. The horses were as tired as their masters, but they followed Shadowfax proudly and relentlessly.

Will glanced over to his side at the captain. The blacksmith noted that the other man seemed just as tired and just as uneasy on a cantering horse as he was; his knuckles were white from clutching the reins so tightly. The young man quickly turned his attention back to his own horse, sending up a quick prayer that he would not fall down and kill himself. The horses of the Rohirrim, however, were clever beasts, and they made sure to follow Shadowfax upon the smoothest paths and to keep their inexperienced riders upon their backs. Anamaria, interestingly enough, was slowly getting used to riding. While she held on as tightly to the reins as her comrades, she found that she was able to keep her balance much more easily than the two men. Admittedly, the woman found herself enjoying the fast ride quite a bit.

Near noon, Shadowfax neighed in joy and stopped in his tracks. The other horses neighed with him in delight. They were home.

Upon a lone hill, surrounded by seas of long grass and shadowed by the white-tipped mountains in the distance, stood Edoras. The sunlight hit the top of a golden hall at the zenith of the hill. Surrounding the great hall were several cottages that dotted the slopes of the mountain. Gandalf and Aragorn knew Edoras and had seen it many times before, but the others had not and they looked at in awe. The only township of Men Jack, Will, and Anamaria had ever seen before in Middle-earth was Bree, and that town was not nearly as impressive as this astounding sight.

Aragorn looked up at the city with a small smile on his face. "It has been many long years since I have looked upon Edoras," he quietly said to himself. Everyone other than Gandalf looked at him questioningly, but he said no more.

"Here is Edoras, and atop there are the golden halls of Meduseld," said Gandalf.

"Wonder if it's real gold," Jack muttered to himself, a bright gleam in his eyes.

Gandalf did not hear him, or if he did, he did not answer. "And in those halls dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, and his mind is overthrown. Saruman holds him and all of Rohan under his command."

"Just like that Éomer said," Jack muttered aloud to himself. "This will be an interesting encounter."

"How d'you plan to release this 'hold'?" Anamaria asked.

Gandalf shook his head. "I am not sure- yet. I must see King Théoden myself. But you all must be very careful as to what you say, and draw no weapons against any of the Rohirrim. Come." Gandalf started his horse again, and the others followed him.

They came to the gates of Edoras, where sat two men with bright mail, golden hair, and sharp spears. The men stood up quickly as the strangers approached, and called to them in their own tongue. Most of them did not understand the language and remained silent, but both Aragorn and Gandalf understood the guards, and it was Gandalf who responded back in the same language. The guards and the wizard spoke long with one another, Aragorn adding in something every now and then. Anamaria sighed impatiently as their discussion drew on, Will kept glancing back to the North, and Jack muttered garbled, nonsensical Elvish to Nithhad, though the horse did not seem to particularly mind.

One of the guards left and kept the group waiting for a short while. When he came back, he spoke once more in his tongue, but then allowed them into the city. Even as they rode through the gate, something came down from the sky and descended onto the grass. It was a flag of Rohan, torn from its pole by the wind. One of the guards picked it up and folded it carefully and reverently. Aragorn looked thoughtfully upon it but spoke no words about his thoughts.

They rode through the silent city, discomfort etched on the faces of those who did not know how to hide it- or did not care to. No children were laughing or playing about. The amount of traffic was slow and the main thoroughfare unusually clear. There was no normal city life in the streets, only an eerie stillness. The villagers looked with both curiosity and mistrust upon the strangers, and rather than speak to themselves or point at them, kept still as they watched them. Even the lack of gossip amongst the citizens seemed unnatural.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli muttered just above a whisper. The others silently agreed with him.

They soon came to the stone stairs that led to the great doors of Meduseld. At the doors, they dismounted, left the horses in the courtyard to be attended to by others, and climbed up to the doors. Before the entranceway of the great hall stood half a dozen guards, and as they ascended the last step the one in front stepped forward.

"I am Háma, the Doorward of Théoden," he said in greeting. "Here I must bid you to lay aside your weapons by the orders of Gríma Wormtongue." He seemed slightly reluctant by obeying the orders of this Gríma Wormtongue, but nonetheless he was firm in his command.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow at this comment, but nevertheless gave Glamdring to Háma. Legolas also gave up his weapons with no objections.

"Make sure to keep these well, for they are gifts from the Lady of Lothlórien," Legolas said. Háma looked at him with awe, and laid the weapons quickly aside.

Anamaria also gave up her sword. "As is mine," she said. "I better not see this touched by anyone but yourself." Háma looked a bit bemused at this statement coming from a rather exotic, but seemingly harmless woman, but nonetheless he obeyed. Will also reluctantly gave up his sword and the dagger he received in Lórien, glaring a bit at the guards as he did so.

Jack cheerfully unbuckled his sword and handed it over to Háma with a grin. "Simple enough of a request that I am happy to oblige to."

Háma glanced at the pistol on his side. "What is that?"

"Oh, this?" Jack drew his pistol and twirled it. "Nothing of importance- sentimental value, good luck charm, you know how that goes. But you wouldn't be asking for any silly good luck charms, savvy eh?" Háma seemed startled by the man's boldness and lack of propriety, but nonetheless did not pressure him to part with the pistol. After all, it did look merely like some strange metal object and nothing more. It was not even sharp.

Gimli and Aragorn, however, were not so eager to give up their weapons.

"It is not my will to put aside Andúril," Aragorn said grimly.

"It is the will of Théoden," said Háma.

"More like the will of this Wormtongue," Gimli muttered under his breath. He gripped tighter on the hilt of his axe.

"Come, we have no time to bicker as such!" Gandalf stated. "I gave up Glamdring, and time is passing by."

Aragorn hesitated, and then gave up Andúril, along with his dagger, his bow, and his quiver full of arrows. He set Andúril in its sheath against the wall, and lay his other weapons aside it. "Here I set it, and I permit no living man to touch it," he said. "Death shall come to any man who draws Elendil's blade other than Elendil's heir."

Háma looked at Aragorn with wonder. "It shall be as you command, lord," he said. Gimli grumbled, but he set his axes with Aragorn's weapons.

Háma looked to Gandalf once more. "Your staff." He nodded his head to the white staff that the wizard was leaning on.

Gandalf looked aghast. "Prudence is one thing, but discourtesy is another! You surely would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

"The staff in the hands of a wizard is more than a prop for old age," Háma argued. He looked at Gandalf hard. "But I believe you mean no evil. You may go in." With that said, the few guards standing at the entrance lifted up the heavy bars and pushed the doors open.

Háma lead them into the hall of Meduseld. The middle of the room was wide and open, and on its sides stood several pillars holding up the high roof. From the sides of the large hall smaller hallways could be seen leading to other parts of the building. Scattered about the area were guards, lords, and servants, all silent as they stared at the strangers warily. At the end of the hall there was, seated on a raised dais, an old man. His white hair was long and unkempt upon his head and chin. His fur coat looked too large for his frail-looking body. He had wrinkles all over his ashen skin, and he looked as if he had not much longer to live. The crown upon his head was dull and was as lifeless as his pale, grey eyes. Right by his side upon a stool there sat a dark-haired man with sickly grey skin, greasy black hair, and dark, beady eyes. An unnatural darkness filled the hall and all of its occupants.

Háma bowed before the king and went to stand with the other guards. The dark man on the king's side whispered into his ear.

"That's the king?" whispered Will to Aragorn. Aragorn only slightly nodded.

"Man looks more dead than Barbossa's skeletal self," Jack muttered to Anamaria.

Gandalf spoke loudly enough for everyone in the hall to hear him. "The courtesy of your halls is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King."

The dark-haired man spoke once again into the king's ear, and the king lifted up his head to view his visitors. "Why should I greet you with courtesy, Gandalf Stormcrow? Why should you receive any welcome?"

The dark-haired man spoke loud enough for the Company to hear his words. "A just question, my liege." He then turned to the newcomers, shooting them all a dark look before ending at Gandalf. "Late is the hour in which this conjuror chooses to appear. _Láthspell_ I name you, Ill-news, and ill-news is an ill-guest."

"Be silent, Gríma Wormtongue! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm." Gandalf brought his staff forward and pointed it menacingly at Wormtongue. The man took a few hasty steps back.

"His staff- I told you to take the wizard's staff!" Gríma shouted at the guards. Suddenly from the shadows appeared many dark-haired men, men that were obviously not Rohirrim. They advanced on Gandalf's companions as the wizard strode forward to the king.

Jack was approached by one who shot him a menacing look. Jack held up his hands and said cheerfully, "Let's just call on a parley, eh?" The man seemed confused by the statement at first, but quickly shook off his confusion and charged at the pirate. Jack ducked, kicked him in the groin, and tripped him. The man groaned and fell to the floor, and he only shook his head sadly. "Should've taken up my offer, mate."

Gimli jumped on one of the men, quickly knocking him to the floor. The dwarf's opponent hit his head on a pillar and was immediately knocked unconscious. Gimli grunted, jumped off him and suddenly noticed Wormtongue trying to crawl away into the shadows. The dwarf went right after him.

The man that went for Anamaria took one good look at her and licked his lips. She responded with a smile of her own and punched him in the stomach. As he doubled over the woman kicked him in the head and he fell to the ground. She smirked in triumph and rushed to help anyone near her.

Aragorn and Legolas remained close to one another, fighting a few of them off. Aragorn punched one in the nose and sent him against the pillar, where he fell and stayed. Legolas elbowed one charging right behind him with ease, and looked to see if anyone needed some assistance.

Will already fought off one and was now being harried by another thug. Suddenly, one he did not see grabbed him from behind. The ruffian quickly twisted his arm and held a knife to his neck. His original foe arrogantly strode up and punched him in the face. The young man flinched, a trickle of blood now flowing down from his nose. The man behind him twisted his arm harder, nicking the skin on Will's neck as he did. The other readied for another punch.

Suddenly, the man holding Will felt at tap on his shoulder. He turned around and dropped his knife in terror when he came upon a rather angry elf. Legolas quickly dispatched him and let him fall to the ground. Will shot Legolas a look of gratitude while the first man just looked between the two, extremely confused by their similarities and rather frightened by being outnumbered. He turned and started to flee when Jack held out his foot, tripped the man, and knocked him out with his gun as he fell to the floor.

Will wiped the blood from his nose and held a few fingers to his neck, putting pressure on the cut. Jack straightened his hat and glanced at Will expectantly. The other nodded, indicating he was all right, and Jack merely nodded in return. Gimli had long since caught Wormtongue while the man had tried to flee and he remained under the dwarf's foot, completely at his mercy. Now that their enemies were no longer a threat, they turned to watch Gandalf, who was now close to the king's seat.

"I release you from the spell," Gandalf muttered under his breath.

Suddenly the king started laughing. His laughter was filled with malice, cruelty, and hate. Once he stopped his mad cackle, he retorted, "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey."

As Théoden started cackling again, the wizard's eyes flared. He threw off his tattered gray cloak to reveal dazzling white robes. Most of the onlookers in the room shielded their eyes against the sudden brightness, and Théoden leaned back in his chair as if trying to escape from the light.

Gandalf spoke now in a loud and commanding voice. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." Gandalf tilted his staff towards the king's body, and Théoden gripped his seat tightly, trying to resist the unseen force that Gandalf put upon him. As the wizard's companions watched, someone pushed against the crowd that had now gathered around the throne. It was a lady with golden hair and clad in white. She made her way up front and was about to stop Gandalf when Aragorn grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She looked up at him, surprise and frustration written clearly on her features. She tried pulling out of his grasp, but his grip was firm.

"Wait," Aragorn commanded. The lady shot him a reproving glare, but did stop struggling and watched the scene before them.

Théoden spoke again, only this time his voice was much more commanding and seemed not at all to belong to the old man. "If I go, Théoden dies," he said maliciously.

Gandalf took a step forward and the king's body was thrown back into his seat. "You did not kill me, and you will not kill him," Gandalf said with just as much confidence.

Théoden snarled. "Rohan is mine!"

Gandalf was very close to the king now. "Be gone."

Théoden seemed to stop struggling for a moment, but suddenly tried to leap out of his chair to the wizard, his intentions unknown but clearly deadly. Gandalf yelled, releasing the last of his power. , Théoden collapsed into his chair, all life seemingly gone from him. He started slipping from his throne onto the floor.

The woman pulled harder to try to free herself from Aragorn and he released her. She ran to the king and caught him as he fell. He gasped and breathed deeply, and right before them his face changed. His stringy white hair became golden, his wrinkled face became younger, and his lifeless eyes became clear of the fog that covered them. He glanced up at the young maiden who held him up, and looked upon her as if he was seeing her for the first time in a long while.

"I know your face," he whispered. She smiled and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Éowyn… Éowyn." She only nodded, speechless in her joy.

Gandalf stepped down from the dais, watching Théoden with clear contentment. The king turned to the other in bewilderment and astonishment. "Gandalf?" he whispered, as if he did not realize he was there before.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," the wizard spoke.

Éowyn helped Théoden up, and for the first time in many a day he stood and looked upon his halls without a fog in his mind. The darkness that covered Meduseld seemed to lift, and sunlight once again found itself shining throughout the hall. All of the guards, lords, and servants that were there looked upon him in clear astonishment.

"Dark have been my dreams of late," Théoden whispered. He looked down at his hands as if he were unsure on what to do with them.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword," Gandalf said knowingly.

Háma, as if on cue, brought up Herugrim, Théoden's blade. Théoden grasped the hilt, and slowly, as uncertainty changed into assurance, he drew the blade from its scabbard. The bright sword gleamed in the sunlight pouring through the windows, and everyone there saw their king in a new light. Théoden looked first at his blade and then around his hall once more. His eyes fell upon a man on the ground who was attempting to hide from his gaze. The king immediately frowned and stepped down to his old advisor. Gimli held Wormtongue's cloak tightly, making sure that the coward did not escape.

Théoden silently studied Gríma for a moment. He did not note the dwarf and only had eyes for the shriveled figure on the cold floor.

"Gamling," the king said quietly in an eerily calm tone of voice.

A man, who looked as if he were trying not to burst out into song due to his happiness, strode up and bowed before the king. "My lord?"

"Escort Master Wormtongue out of Meduseld," he said as he fingered his blade.

"Of course, my lord."

Háma came up from behind Gamling. "May I be of assistance?" he asked with a sudden lightness in his voice.

"Of course, Master Háma," said Gamling, a smirk playing on his lips. Wormtongue shook his head in fear as he was handed to both of the guards. With ease, they dragged him to the doors, Théoden, Gandalf, and the others close behind.

The doors were thrown open, and as if on cue, Háma and Gamling threw Gríma down a flight of stone steps. He screamed as he fell and moaned in pain as he rolled down the stairs, finally coming to a stop at the bottom of the first flight. Théoden walked down the steps, his sword ready to slay Saruman's spy.

The townsfolk of Edoras started coming up the street to see what all the commotion was. Wormtongue tried crawling away from the king, but that made little difference.

"I have only ever served you, my lord," he said lamely.

"Your leech craft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" the king snarled fiercely at his old advisor.

"Send me not from your side!" he yelled in fear as King Théoden raised his sword.

Before it could be brought down, Aragorn ran out of the crowd and stopped the king, grabbing him by the arms to halt his movement. "No, my lord! No, my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account," he said. Théoden looked up at Aragorn with surprise. Gandalf and Legolas remained emotionless, Gimli shook his head, Will frowned, Anamaria sighed in frustration, and Jack rolled his eyes.

Aragorn briefly shook his head and turned to Gríma, who looked up at the Ranger with wonder and not a little suspicion. He offered his hand to help the man up, and Wormtongue eyed it, hesitating for a brief moment, but suddenly spat upon it. Aragorn looked disgusted as he wiped his hand on his cloak.

"Now that was not very nice," Jack commented idly. He fingered his pistol, wondering if he should shoot the man down anyways, but before he could make a decision Wormtongue stood up.

The man broke through the crowd that had surrounded the stone steps, yelling, "Get out of my way!" He disappeared out of sight.

The villagers did not seem too bothered by him. "Hail, Théoden King!" one of the commoners called out quickly after Wormtongue fled, kneeling before him and bowing his head. The rest of the villagers swiftly followed suit. The guards, men of the household, Éowyn, and the Company all bowed their heads in reverence. Aragorn also knelt in front of the king, bowing his head in respect.

The King of Rohan was free from Saruman's spell.


	21. Sogoneru

Chapter 21: Sogoneru

King Théoden silently scanned the crowd after Wormtongue departed. Suddenly, he turned to his household and looked upon them as if searching for someone. When he did not find whom he sought, he asked, "Where is Théodred? Where is my son?"

Éowyn stirred by Jack's side and quickly he noted the look upon her face. "This can't be all that good," he muttered to Anamaria. His shipmate only nodded as the other woman walked past the guards and down the steps to the king. She said something quietly to him and suddenly he was as still as stone. His face turned an interesting shade of white and he quickly made his way into Meduseld. Once he was inside, the crowd stood and dispersed, several individuals loudly discussing the miracle that they had witnessed.

The members of the Company were allowed their weapons back, and once all was retrieved, they followed part of Théoden's household inside. Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli disappeared down a hallway with Théoden and Éowyn, while Jack, Will, and Anamaria stayed in the main hall.

Jack strode up to Will casually and smiled before suddenly becoming serious. "So, Will, you and me, we're good now, eh?" The smile flashed by quickly once more.

The other man studied the captain solemnly before smiling. "Aye, Jack, I think we are. But if you ever insult Elizabeth again-"

"I know, I know, you'll string my innards around this hall as a warning to others. You were inescapably clear before." The quirky smile that belonged to only Jack Sparrow's face flashed quickly by again. "So, uh, I've been thinking. The mates told me that there is no rum in this backwards world we've found ourselves on."

"Horrors."

"I know! It's terrible, isn't it? Anyways, I've been thinking, now that we've finally found civilization and all, I think I'll be able to finally, uh, introduce the drink to the locals."

Will blinked in surprise. "However do you plan on doing that?"

"By making it, o' course. This place is likely to have the supplies, being a palace and all. Well," he amended, "a straw-like palace, but nonetheless a king's house."

Will burst out laughing. "You are going to create rum? All you've ever done is drink it!"

Anamaria, who had been inspecting the various tapestries in the hall with admittedly little interest, heard the laugh. She took the laugh as an excuse to join them and came into earshot in time to hear Will's last sentence. "All he's ever done is drink what?"

"Rum." Will snickered. "He wants to create it."

Jack looked offended by Will's amusement, but he quickly turned to Anamaria with a winning smile. "They don't have rum in Middle-earth, so I'm going to make some. I've had none for far too long. Since Will here seems to think I can't do it, I won't allow him to join the process. You, however, can if you want."

She grinned, but shook her head. "I'll leave the creatin' all to you, Captain. But once you're done, share the spoils!"

"I'll share it with you, love."

Will only shook his head. "If you manage to create it, I will take back what I said and gladly share a drink with you. I am partial to rum myself."

Jack looked at him suspiciously. "We'll see, mate. We'll see."

O0O0O0O

The King knelt at his son's bedside in silence while Éowyn stood in the doorway, watching him. Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli stayed further down the hallway, studying the blonde figure at the entrance of the room quietly.

"She is strong," Legolas muttered.

"Yea, she has to be, to endure living with a worm such as that Gríma. You could see the hate in her eyes for that- that- that creature," Gimli growled.

Aragorn nodded silently as he looked upon her with both appreciation and pity. She was strong, but it was obvious that she had suffered much; it was clear in her cold countenance and chilly eyes.

"Come," Gandalf said. "There will be a burial for the king's son soon. Let us leave them." The others nodded and followed the wizard down the corridor to the main hall.

About an hour later the citizens of Edoras were lined up to pay their respects to Prince Théodred. The king, newly shaved and dressed, followed the men who carried his son to a green mound just outside the city. Following him were the remaining members of the Fellowship, Éowyn, and most of the warriors in Edoras. All held their heads down, and in one case, hat off, in respect.

Éowyn stood right next to the mound as her cousin was put within his dark tomb. The weeping of the women was unbearable to listen to, and an attentive observer could see tears in a few men's eyes; it was clear that the people loved their prince.

The young woman suddenly started to sing, her voice quavering as she did. It was a haunting melody, even to the few that did not understand the tune. But whether it was understood or not, it clearly revealed sorrow.

"_Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære, his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost. Bealo…_"

O0O0O0O

The sun had nearly set and only two people remained at Théodred's grave. Gandalf the White and Théoden King stood in silent reverence beside the mound. On the other side of the hill that held Edoras, sounds of Will, Anamaria, and Jack trying to improve in horseback riding drifted with the wind. Though Éowyn and Aragorn were excellent teachers, this proved to be a difficult task.

The king picked a white flower from the ground and looked at it expressionlessly. Finally, he sighed and let it fall to the ground. "Simbelmynë. Ever has it grown on the tombs of my fore-bearers." He turned to Gandalf, who watched him wordlessly. "Now it covers the grave of my son. Alas that these evil days should be mine. The young perish and the old linger, and that I should live to see the last days of my house."

Gandalf looked the king straight in the eye. "Théodred's death was not of your making."

Théoden only shook his head. "No parent should have to bury their child." The tears he held in throughout the day finally came, and he fell to the ground and wept.

O0O0O0O

"Will, steer your horse to the left… no, the left!" Aragorn sighed in mild frustration as Wistan trotted to the right and Will glanced at him hopelessly. "Did you not ever ride a horse at your home? Or even in Rivendell?"

"No…" Will started. "I never thought about it in Rivendell, and at home I had no need to ride a horse that often. I did a couple of times, but nothing long enough to really count. I am not sure if I have a knack for riding." He shrugged, but then smirked. "At least I am not as horrible as Jack."

"I resent that remark!" Jack retorted as he lightly bounced up and down on the saddle of Nithhad. "It's the bloody horse's fault! He was quite fine to and from that forest, you know." He shook the reins, annoyance written all over his features.

"You were nearly falling off your saddle the whole time!" Anamaria retorted. Unlike her companions, she was doing relatively well. "I bet if that horse stopped tolerating you, he'd kick you off real quick!"

"You were closer to the ground than I was," the man snapped back. "And no, he wouldn't. Would you, horse?" Nithhad ignored him.

Éowyn laughed as she witnessed the banter; it was the first time she released a true laugh in a long time. The Rohir was working with Anamaria, who truly was doing better than her two companions were. The darker woman trotted around the area smoothly, clearly enjoying her time on the horse. Éowyn was secretly pleased that she rode astride the beast instead of sideways as was usually custom for women, though in Rohan women knew how to ride both ways equally well. It was good to see another woman with fortitude.

Suddenly, Jack kicked Nithhad, attempting once again to make him move faster than the slow trot he had thus far been content to stay in. At this bidding, the horse sprang off into a gallop, and the man astride him hung on for dear life. Aragorn and Éowyn tried calling the horse back, but it was to no avail and the animal kept running. Jack's hat quickly flew off as his steed made its way away from the group. Nithhad soon galloped around to the other side of the hill, where Théoden and Gandalf stood among the burial mounds.

"He was strong in life. His spirit will make it to the halls of-" Gandalf started, but the loud beat of hooves interrupted him. He turned to his left and only raised his brow as he watched Jack charging at full speed and with no control over his horse. The man swiftly passed by, Théoden taking no notice of him in his grief, and headed northbound, quickly leaving Edoras behind.

"Stop!" Jack yelled at the horse. "Stop, you bloody animal!" The horse did not heed him and kept on galloping. "St-".

Suddenly the horse did stop, and Jack nearly flew off him. To his relief, he managed to keep his seat, and once he caught his breath, he noticed that Nithhad had stopped for another horse. Upon the strange horse's back was a small blonde girl, and on the ground next to them was a boy, older than the girl was, but not old enough yet to be considered a man.

Jack forgot his anger to Nithhad and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Frowning, he jumped off the horse to the best of his ability- which was not much, to say the least- and went over to the boy. He knelt down beside him and gently shook his shoulder.

"Hey, lad? You all right, mate?" He shook him once more, but the boy did not respond. He did not have, however, any visible wounds or the limpness of a dead body, which relieved him; he really had no desire to tell the little girl that he was dead. As his thoughts went to her, Jack glanced up and eyed the child still on the horse. She did not say anything, but she seemed both frightened and curious about the strange-looking man. Jack, not quite sure what to say to the girl, looked back at the unconscious boy and sighed. "Suppose I should take you back to Edoras, then." He began to pick him up, but heard a small, frightened gasp from the girl. The captain looked up again and tried to ease her fright with a smile. The smile did not seem to do much to alleviate her fears and so he attempted to talk her out of her panic.

"Hello, love. Don't worry, I won't harm him. Just goin' to bring him to Edoras, is all." He nodded over to the large city upon the hill. "Suppose you'd like to come too, eh?" She bit her lip, but after a short pause, nodded. He grinned, rather relieved to receive any sort of response from her, and picked the boy up. He used his shoulder and his left arm to support the child while he grabbed the reins of the strange horse with his right hand. He began to lead them to the city, Nithhad obediently following them.

Once they were in sight of Edoras, near the mounds they could see Théoden, who was now calm and composed, Gandalf, and Aragorn, Éowyn, Anamaria, and Will with Anamaria's and Will's horses. They had just arrived to that side of the hill, searching for Jack. Once they clearly saw Jack's figure and the boy in his arms, Aragorn jumped upon Will's horse and galloped over to him.

Aragorn reached Jack and the two children within a minute. He did not dismount the horse, but instead immediately asked, "What happened?"

Jack shook his head. "Don't know, mate. Found him on the ground near this horse."

Aragorn turned to the girl. "What happened to him?" She seemed just as frightened of him as she was of Jack and only lowered her eyes, remaining silent.

Jack handed the boy to Aragorn, who propped him upright on Will's horse, and turned to the little girl again. "Hey, love, don't worry. Aragorn here just wants to help him."

The girl looked back at Jack, and he shot her an encouraging smile, which she seemed to slightly warm up to now. Glancing at the boy supported gently by Aragorn, she turned once more to the captain and whispered, "Éothain fell off Garulf when you came."

Aragorn checked the boy's pulse and was relieved to find a slow, but steady heartbeat. "He just needs some food and rest, as I would assume she needs as well. I will take him to Edoras. Jack, think you can take her to Meduseld?"

"Of course," replied the pirate. "Be sure not to drop the lad."

Aragorn shot him a dry look, but did not bother to reply and sped away with Éothain. He quickly stopped by the others to explain the situation and then rode off into the city. The others spoke with each other for a moment, though their words were inaudible to Jack over such a distance, but soon the king took Anamaria's horse and rode after Aragorn. Éowyn and Gandalf followed him on foot, but Anamaria and Will started over to Jack, who was slowly making his way south towards Edoras.

Instead of riding his horse, Jack preferred to walk alongside Garulf. He shot another warm smile to the little girl, and she gave a timid smile back. He had little experience with children, but his calm voice and odd manner seemed to comfort rather than frighten the young girl.

"So, love, what's your name?" he asked her.

"Freda," she whispered. "What's yours, sir?"

"Jack," he replied simply. "Just call me Jack."

"Is Éothain going to be alright?" she blurted after a moment's silence.

Jack nodded. "He'll be fine. All he needs is some food and rest." He paused. "Is he your brother?"

"Yea," she nodded. "Are you sure he's going to be all right?" she asked again anxiously.

Jack grinned. "Just fine. Now, are you hungry?"

"Very," she said with an eager nod. "Éothain and I have had only bread and water for these past couple of days."

"Well then, let's get on to Meduseld and get some food into you."

Soon they reached the others. Anamaria and Will looked up at her concernedly, but Jack gave them a reassuring smile. Anamaria jumped on Jack's horse, which was still obediently following Jack, took the little girl off Garulf, and the two galloped up to Meduseld to find Freda some food and rest. Jack and Will were content to make their way slowly to the city gate. The sun was just starting to disappear under the mountains in the west and it was darkening quickly, but they would not be locked out.

"Where do you think those two children are from?" Will asked.

Jack shrugged. "Who can say? I've seen many stray children in my time."

"An unfortunate part of life," said Will. He paused. "I hope their parents are well."

"One can only hope. Wouldn't be surprised if they were orphans, though."

The other man nodded. "I was about the boy's age when my mother died, and my father was gone," Will muttered. "I was lucky to survive and live as I did."

"I had no parents meself," Jack said. Suddenly he shot Will a grin. "Why do you think I turned out to be the scoundrel I am today?"

Will grinned back. "Raised in Tortuga by rogues, Jack?"

"They were good enough," Jack retorted, lifting his chin. "Better than that Brown fellow of yours, that's for sure."

Will chuckled. "His wife was the one who raised me. After we landed in Port Royal, Governor Swann handed me to them, telling them to turn me into a fine citizen. Mrs. Brown raised me well enough, I suppose, and Mr. Brown taught me well. However, after she died, he started drinking, and turned into the drunken fool that he is today."

"Pity."

"Indeed."

The conversation died and they quietly made their way through the gates of Edoras as the sun set below the western horizon.

O0O0O0O

Later that night they gathered in the main hall of Meduseld. The two children had rested and both of them were eating as only half-starved children could. The boy Éothain had awoken while his sister Freda was sleeping and he had told all of them a shocking tale. He directed his tale to the king, who looked grim as he received the lad's tidings.

"From the North, Wild Men of Dunland came and started to burn everything and kill everyone in their path. I saw one of my friends fall, my lord. Our mother sent my sister and me off to raise the alarm and to warn everyone. For two days we rode, nonstop, eating nothing but bread and water. I received no rest in that amount of time, and I apologize for my sleep and the delay in telling of this news, my lord, but I was extremely weary. I do hope that these men are stopped."

Théoden told him he had nothing to apologize for, and once Freda had awoken, Éowyn had seen to their care. She now stood near the siblings, seeing to it that the children ate as much as they could. Jack, Anamaria, Will, and Gimli were finishing off their dinner, as Aragorn thoughtfully smoked on his pipe beside them. Legolas stood off a bit to the side, deep within his own mind as he observed the hall. The king sat upon his throne, his head in his hand, and Gandalf sat where Gríma used to sit when he advised the ruler.

Freda, once she had appeased her first cravings, looked up suddenly from her soup. "Where is Mama?" she asked. "Where is Papa?" Éowyn shushed her and gave her a piece of buttered bread to eat, but she did not look at it. "Where are Mama and Papa?" she asked frantically, tears starting to roll down her face. The adults about her looked at her silently; they could not say that her parents were well, because none of them knew if they were still even alive.

"Hush, Freda," said Éothain. "They don't know, so don't pester them."

As the two siblings conversed with one another, Freda's tears not abating, Anamaria nudged Jack. "Go comfort her."

"Me? Why me? Do I look like the comforting type to you?"

"She likes you. Told me on the way here."

"Why don't you do it? Kids are..." Jack only shrugged.

Anamaria rolled her eyes and nudged him once more. Rolling his eyes, Jack jumped out of his seat to avoid another nudge and walked over to Freda. He sat down right next to her and looked at her uncertainly. Both of the siblings became silent when he joined them, so he figured he would do as he always did: make up things as they came along.

"Like your brother said, we don't know where your mum or your dad is," Jack started. She started to cry harder, but he shushed her. "But I know that both of them would want you to be strong and not cry, savvy?" Her tears slowed as she absorbed the foreign word. "There, that's better." He shot her a toothy grin, and her tears immediately stopped as she stared at his teeth. His smile faltered and he shot her a slightly suspicious look. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Is that… real silver and gold?" she asked, dumbfounded. Éothain stopped eating and looked over at Jack, casually trying to get a glimpse of his teeth.

"Real as any silver or gold can be," he said, pleased that she had ceased crying. He glanced over to the other table and Anamaria shot him a triumphant look.

"Can I touch them?" she asked innocently.

"Freda!" Éothain started, but Jack interrupted him.

"If you really want to, I suppose," the captain answered with a smirk, and barred out his teeth. The others looked on amusedly as she timidly touched one of Jack's front gold teeth, and quickly pulled away, astonished. He tapped one of his teeth and it made a slight ringing sound, which caused her to giggle. The captain, amused with her fascination, kept her entertained as the others talked about important matters.

"What your people are experiencing in the Westfold is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf started to Théoden. "All the more potent is he for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children." At this statement, Gandalf grasped the arm of the throne, and Théoden looked at his hand warily. "You must fight."

Aragorn took his pipe out of his mouth and looked up at the King of Rohan. "We met with Éomer as we were tracking a band of Uruk-hai. He has many men at the Fords of Isen, and Marshal Erkenbrand is with him and supports him; even now they hold the Fords against Saruman's forces. A good two thousand are in their company, and they all will return and fight for their king."

Théoden stood up, shaking his head as he did. "The Fords are too far, and they are already engaged in their own battles. They cannot help us." He walked down the hall in a pace-like manner, and suddenly turned to Gandalf, who was up and ready to speak. "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

Aragorn exhaled and shook his own head. "Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not. My lord, Saruman is destroying your army at the Fords of Isen; you must call them back and strike the enemy with your full strength."

The king shot Aragorn a cold look. "You may be Isildur's heir, Arathorn's son, but I am still king of Rohan." Jack looked up from where he was speaking with Freda and raised an eyebrow in Aragorn's direction. Anamaria looked away, most likely rolling her eyes or muttering something under her breath; Will and Legolas were silent. Gimli only shook his head wordlessly and drank from his mug. Éowyn stared at Aragorn expressionlessly, and Gandalf was emotionless to the retort, as was his wont.

"Then what is the king's decision upon this matter?" Gandalf broke the uncomfortable silence. "What shall be done against the treachery of Saruman? What would be best for your people?"

Théoden stopped pacing and looked into Gandalf's eyes. He wearily walked up to his throne, where he sat down heavily, his head in his hand once more. Finally he muttered, "All but Gandalf, leave me be. I need to think, and I wish for his counsel."

Aragorn bowed his head. "As you wish it, lord." He stood up, with Gimli soon behind him. Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn left the main hall. Éowyn looked after Aragorn casually, nodded to her king, and helped Éothain up from his seat. She tried taking Freda away from Jack, but she was now happily sitting on his lap and did not wish to leave him. He looked up at the lady with a shrug.

"I'll take her, love," he said nonchalantly, holding the girl like a babe as he stood up. Éowyn gave him a hint of a smile, which left as quickly as it came, and beckoned Jack to follow her. Will and Anamaria looked at one other, glanced at Jack, then smirked at one another and followed Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

O0O0O0O

Éowyn silently led Jack down a hallway. Freda was falling asleep in his arms and Éothain seemed weary as well. After a few minutes, they reached a door and Éowyn opened it, revealing a small room with two beds, a tiny drawer, and a small washroom near the back. Éothain climbed into one of the beds while Jack set Freda in the other. She yawned as he set the covers around her.

"Jack?" she whispered.

"Yea?"

"When will I see Papa and Mama again?"

Jack bit his lip. "I don't know, love."

"Can you be my Papa until he comes back?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps something can be arranged. Now, err, go to sleep." She gave a small smile, snuggled in her blankets, and quickly fell into her dreams.

Éowyn silently shut the door and beckoned Jack to follow her. "That girl holds some affection for you," she started. "You are excellent with children, my lord."

"Technically, I'm a 'captain', not a 'lord'. But you can call me Jack," he said with a coy smile.

"If you insist, then," said the woman, completely ignoring the expression on his face.

The conversation died, and Jack could not help but note how cold and aloof this young woman was. He was not sure he quite liked it. Rather than insult her with his observation, however, he had a better idea. "Err, lady," he started, "perhaps you could be kind enough to point out the direction of the kitchens?"

Éowyn looked surprised at this request. "Pray, why do you wish to see the kitchens?"

"I am a bit hungry."

"I can have a servant send something to your quarters."

He smiled at her. "I wish to make my own... dish. Something from my- my country, you see. Something not known about here. It's been a dreadfully long time since I've had it and I am really, really wanting some right now."

Éowyn's coldness disappeared as confusion completely took root. "You wish to make some of your own country's food in our kitchens?"

"Precisely."

"Well, if you truly want to do so-"

"I do." He shot her another grin.

She thought about it for a long moment, but finally the young woman gave in. "If you would, follow me." She turned around and Jack silently trailed her, a smirk plastered on his face.

It was not long until they reached the kitchens. She led him inside, where many of the people working there nodded their heads, muttering 'my lady' and occasionally 'my lord'. She talked with one of the servants there, who glanced at Jack curiously, but nodded to Éowyn.

"Jack, this is Edlyn. She will aid you in your task, if you need it." Jack nodded and shot Edlyn a large smile. Before Éowyn left, she asked the man, "What do you intend to make?"

"A little something called rum."

O0O0O0O

Éowyn was gone, and he was left in the kitchens with the servant woman. She was around her late twenties, or early thirties, he guessed, with long blonde hair in a tight bun, brown eyes, and a simple brown dress covered with a dirty apron. She waited silently and patiently as he observed the kitchens, which looked much like the kitchens he had seen in Tortuga, only a great deal calmer and cleaner.

"Do you have any molasses?" he asked her.

She looked surprised by his request. "Yes, lord, we do."

"Captain, actually, but you can call me Jack," he said as he brought out a large container from the storage area. "Now, I am going to make alcohol, but it will have molasses in it instead of whatever any other ingredient you usually put in. You follow?"

"Lord-"

"Jack."

"… Jack, I have made many ales and wines in my time, but never have I made a drink with molasses in it. What exactly is this drink called?"

"Rum, the best of all drinks- and it's a bloody sin that you don't people don't know it. Had to invent a word for it in Elvish, even, though at least it was a good one- doesn't Sogoneru simply flow on the tongue?" She only blinked, likely confused by his ramble. He did not seem to care. "Now, can you find some molasses and distill it?"

Happy she did not have to respond to his strange questions, she did what she was told. After a few minutes of preparation, Jack began to wait patiently for the molasses to distill. Edlyn watched silently by his side.

"So…" Jack tried to think of a casual topic for conversation. "How long have you been working in the kitchens?"

"Many years," she replied. "Ever since my husband died in battle."

"Oh." So much for casual conversation.

An awkward silence lay between the two for a couple more minutes. The other workers in the kitchen glanced at them occasionally with curiosity, but said nothing to them. Suddenly, Jack said, "Take it off the fire and let it sit for a while." She obeyed without question.

For how long they sat, waiting for it to be done, none can say. This man, who looked like no man she had ever seen before, intimidated Edlyn. He wore the strangest garments, wore his hair in an arrangement that reminded her of a bird's nest, had gold and silver teeth, and had some sort of black substance around his eyes. His manner of movement and speaking was so casual that it made her only more uncomfortable. She idly wondered where he was from, but asked no questions.

Suddenly, Jack stirred and looked into the pot. He saw a clear liquid sitting in it. He grinned and asked Edlyn for a cup. She handed him a plain wooden goblet and he gently dipped it into the solution.

"Let's see how newly-made rum tastes!" he said, raising his cup to his lips. He took a gulp, and visibly grimaced. The expression soon faded into one of delight. "Quite a shock at first, but leaves a lovely feeling on your tongue," he partially explained to Edlyn, partially to himself. "Lo and behold! I have created rum!" He drank the cup dry, and dipped it again into the pot. "Come, you can taste yourself!" he exclaimed, offering the cup to the woman. She took it cautiously, sniffed it, and reluctantly took a sip. Edlyn immediately regretted it. She handed the cup quickly back to Jack and made a face as she forced the vile drink down her throat.

"Suit yerself," the man shrugged, quickly drinking the cup dry and dipping it into the pot again. This he did several times more, clearly trying to make up for all the months in Middle-earth without rum.

Soon, he had taken so many draughts of the drink that he was anything but sober. Edlyn observed this and became even more alarmed of this stranger. The other servants in the kitchen also had noticed this, but to their relief, everything was cleaned up and it was time for them to go to bed. Soon, only Edlyn and Jack were in the kitchen.

"Y'know, I have a ship," he started, slightly slurring as he spoke. "_Black Pearl_ it's called, and it was stolen from me!"

"Oh?" she mildly asked.

"Yup. 'bout twelve years ago, now. A pirate named Bar- Barbossa."

She nodded slowly, not believing a word he said.

"He stole it from me," he repeated. "I was sailing along the ocean, looking for treasure, and he took it! Stranded me on an island, he did. Then, though, I got off the island, I did! I rode a sea turtle to Tortuga."

Now she had no doubt that he was completely out of his mind.

Suddenly, he swayed and nearly fell into her, but she quickly stepped aside before he could. Instead of landing on her, he landed on top of a high counter. "Perhaps you should go back to your room," she suggested.

"Perhaps," he agreed slowly. "Where's that?"

Edlyn held back a sigh. "I shall escort you." Taking the cup from his hand, she led the swaying man to the guest quarters of Meduseld. She opened the door to his room, where Éowyn had told her he was staying with others, and watched expressionlessly as he nearly fell on his face inside. She closed the door behind him; Edlyn thought that, while he was in the company of great lords, he was not very lordly himself, and she hoped never to see him again.


	22. The Morning After

Chapter 22: The Morning After

Jack all but fell flat on his face as he entered the room he shared with Will. Next door were Gandalf and Aragorn; across the hallway were Gimli and Legolas in one room and Anamaria in another. Will was in there, trying to fall asleep when the other man came stumbling in. He sat up in his bed and saw a glimpse of the serving woman before she closed the door behind her.

Will sprang up and steadied his friend, who looked around at his settings confusedly.

"Where am I?" he asked, a slight slur in his voice.

Will wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of the alcohol. "Dear God, Jack, what have you been drinking?"

"Sogoneru," the other muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Had Sogoneru."

"What in the world is Sogoneru?"

"Rum," Jack said, a large smile on his face. "Made rum with Giselle."

Will blinked. "Giselle? The wench from Tortuga?" Jack only nodded in reply, and Will shook his head. "Right. You've had a bit too much to drink. If you did something stupid, though, I'm not saving your hide."

"I don't do anything stupid."

"Of course not," the other man responded wryly. "You're Captain Jack Sparrow. You haven't done a stupid thing in your life." Jack nodded in agreement, completely missing the heavy sarcasm in Will's voice. "You better get to sleep now."

"Going to sleep." He pulled himself out of Will's grasp and staggered to his bed. Plopping into it, he muttered, "Don't touch me rum," before sinking into the deep oblivion of dreamland.

"I hope he has the worst hangover of his life," Will muttered, clearly annoyed with the man. He crawled under his own covers, blew out the candle, and soon fell asleep.

O0O0O0O

Will woke up as someone shook him awake. He turned over in his bed and swatted her away.

"I will do it later," he muttered. "Let me sleep." The woman sighed and shook him again. Will groaned. "Let me sleep! Elizabeth, you wake too early. Need sleep."

She chuckled and said, "All right, little Willy, I will leave you to your sleep as we all leave." Will was quite confused by the answer; that did not sound like Elizabeth. He opened his eyes and saw Anamaria hovering inches above him, grinning madly. He yelped in surprise and rolled away a foot just to land right on the floor. She laughed loudly and laughed even harder as he tried to untangle himself from his covers. Anamaria was still laughing as he finally escaped his soft prison of blankets and went to pull on a shirt.

The young woman glanced over at Jack who was above the covers, as still as a stone, his soft breaths coming in steady intervals. He had not awoken to the commotion, which was odd and unlike him. Sighing, she walked over to her captain and nudged him to awaken him. He did not budge. She sighed again, louder this time, and looked over at Will who was pulling on his boots.

"He's still armed, so I don't want to do anything too drastic…" She paused, and a smile crept up her face as she eyed a pitcher of water. "Never mind about not being drastic. We need to get a move on. Besides, he'll miss breakfast if someone doesn't wake him, and you know how he can be on an empty stomach. Will, I'll catch up with you… if I were you, I would be out of the room, in case Jack unleashes his anger on you. He wouldn't dare hit me, of course." She snickered and picked up the pitcher of water.

Will only smirked at her antics. He hastily pulled on his other boot and swiftly left the room, making sure to close the door behind him. The last thing he saw was Anamaria carrying the pitcher to Jack's bed, the mad grin back on her face.

After he shut the door, he quickly walked down the hallway to the main hall. He paused for a moment as he heard a loud scream mixed with laughter come from beyond the closed door. He chuckled as he made his way to breakfast.

Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli were already out in the main hall and breaking their fast. Will assumed that Gandalf was taking counsel with the king concerning his plan of action. The man smiled at his companions and the others nodded their heads in acknowledgement.

"Slept late, lad," Gimli said in greeting. "We are preparing to leave for Helm's Deep and will be gone from Edoras before noon. Better start packing up."

Will nodded in acknowledgement, and then answered the dwarf's unspoken question. "I was up late last night, waiting for Jack."

"Where is he?" Legolas asked. He was leaning casually against a pillar, his arms crossed and a mildly curious expression upon his features.

"Anamaria's waking him up," Will said with a large smirk. Aragorn raised his eyebrows, but Legolas chuckled and Gimli laughed loudly at the man's expression.

"I do not believe I wish to know," was Aragorn's only remark.

Anamaria soon came, but she was alone and had something between exasperation and amusement written on her face. When the others looked up at her questioningly, she said, "He has a hangover. A bad one at that. He's not vomiting, though, so not much clean up." She sat down, grabbed a piece of bread and a knife, and all but drowned the bread in butter.

"Hangover?" Aragorn asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "He did not drink much ale last night."

Anamaria laughed. "Oh, he had something stronger than the ale. He didn't remember much; all I could get out of him was 'Sogoneru', whatever that is."

Legolas raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Sogoneru? That is what he calls his 'rum' in Elvish- or, at least, a poor imitation of my tongue."

Anamaria frowned as she absorbed this information. "I didn't see any rum last night. If I had, I would have been on it quicker than Will on Elizabeth." Will choked on his drink at the statement, while the other three looked at her incredulously. She merely ignored their looks and dove into her meal.

Aragorn was the first to recover. "As I told Jack, I have never encountered this drink in all my journeys, and certainly not here in Edoras."

Will, who finally managed to catch his breath, said, "When he came to bed last night, which was pretty late, he was drunker than a dog. He said that he had 'made rum with Giselle'.

"Giselle?" the other man asked.

"Her?" Anamaria scoffed. "That blonde wench from Tortuga? I'm pretty sure she ain't here."

"She isn't, but at that point I doubt he could tell the difference between Tortuga and Edoras. He likely mistook the servant woman who led him to his chambers for her."

"What servant woman?" asked Aragorn, his voice deceptively calm.

"I don't know who she was. I did not catch a good glimpse of her, but like the rest of the people in this town, she had light hair."

Aragorn stood. "I will speak with Jack," he said. "I will be back in a moment." With that, he strode out of the main hall.

Within a minute, Aragorn was outside of Jack's bedroom. He rapped sharply upon the door. "Go 'way," was the response he received. Completely ignoring it, the Ranger pushed the door open. His companion was still in bed, his hat over his face. As he approached, he noticed that the other man was completely soaking wet.

"We are leaving soon," said Aragorn.

"Mmm."

"Do you wish to be left behind, then?"

"There's no need to shout, you know."

Aragorn snorted. "I am speaking in a normal tone of voice. You, friend, are going through the aftermath of having too much to drink."

"I am quite aware of the effects of a hangover." He pulled his hat off his head and glanced at Aragorn. "Now what d'you really want? My head may be split in two, but I'm no idiot."

"What did you do last night?" he asked calmly.

Jack shrugged. "Don't recall, I'm afraid. You know, drink and all."

"You made rum."

"Aye, wondrous rum. Sogoneru. Good stuff."

"How did you make it?"

"With the proper supplies, of course." Jack sat up and stared Aragorn in the eye. "Look mate, my head is about to explode. _What do you want_?"

Aragorn remained calm as he asked, "Who was the servant who brought you here last night, and what did you do with her?"

A frown immediately broke out on Jack's face, and he stood. He ignored the pounding of his head and walked over to Aragorn, ignoring the fact that he was still cold and wet. "Are you implying something, mate?" he asked quietly.

"Your companions said that you mistook her for a 'wench' you once knew; did you use her as such?"

Jack burst out laughing, ignoring the headache he received from the sound. "You're worried about the ramblings of a drunken man? Leave it. Whatever I said didn't happen; we went into the kitchen, I made rum with the servant whose name escapes me at this moment, and she dragged my carcass back here. If you're so worried about the honor of the girl, you can talk with Éowyn and enquire as to who assisted me in the making of my... cultural dish."

Aragorn stared silently at the man before him. "You give your word that nothing happened?"

"Aye, you have my word." Jack raised an eyebrow as if to challenge him to question the validity of his word.

He held his gaze for a moment longer before nodding. "Very well, then. I am glad I will not find you with a sword through your abdomen because you defiled the wife or daughter of a citizen of Rohan."

"He'd find himself dead before he could touch me," the other man responded as he laid a hand on his pistol. When Aragorn's expression turned grim, the other man hastily added, "Just joking, mate." He flashed the Ranger a quick grin.

Aragorn only shortly nodded. "Very well, then. In the future, do save the rum creation for when we are not in the middle of war."

"I can't make any guarantees."

The other man's lips twitched. "I see. Well then, at least let me partake in your company next time. I wish to taste this drink of yours sometime."

"I believe that we can arrange something," said Jack with a quirky smile.

"Good. Now we will be off very soon- be ready to depart within the hour. You may find some food to break your fast if you hurry."

"Wonderful. I'll be getting out of these damp clothes first, if you don't mind. And when you see Anamaria, tell her that she ain't getting out of this one."

Aragorn chuckled. "So I wondered. Very well, then. I shall meet you in the main hall." With that, he left the room.

O0O0O0O

An hour later Jack's hangover had disappeared, he was in a dry pair of clothes, he had eaten, and he was with the rest of his companions. They were walking with Gandalf to the stables while around them the townspeople of Edoras made the last preparations for their departure. Early that morning, Háma, the Doorward of Théoden, had officially declared that all citizens were to leave their homes and go to Helm's Deep. Rather than go with them, Gandalf had told them after his meeting with Théoden that he was to leave and ride north to the Fords of Isen, where he hoped to find Éomer, Erkenbrand, and their companies.

Anamaria broke the silence that had fallen across the group as they made their way down the road. "So, this Helm's Deep place- will it hold all of us?"

"More importantly, will it actually protect these people?" Will added.

Gandalf's face fell grim at their questions. "The walls are strong enough, and there is plenty of room within the caverns." Gimli perked up when he heard the word 'caverns'. "But there is no way out of that ravine, and if Saruman releases enough of his strength, there is little hope for the survival of Rohan."

"Sounds like a wonderful time to be had," Jack put in. The wizard ignored him.

"I do hope that Erkenbrand and Éomer still hold the Fords, but if they lose them, they will either make their way to Helm's Deep or to Edoras." Gandalf muttered his next thoughts as if he were saying them to himself. "Hopefully I will find them in time."

They entered the stables. The company was silent as Gandalf made his way to Shadowfax. As he opened up the stable door, Aragorn said, "You will find them in time."

"Let us hope that," the wizard muttered as he mounted Shadowfax. "Let us hope that, indeed." They stepped aside as the great steed sprang off, the White Wizard shining like a star upon his back.

Swiftly after the wizard's departure, the remnants of the Company split up to help the city prepare to evacuate in various ways, for it was only a matter of minutes before the king left the Golden Hall and his city. His people would follow him, and they would follow him with hope for their survival. Jack and Will made their way outside and assisted an elderly couple pack their most important things onto a wheelbarrow. Anamaria, rather reluctantly, helped keep some children in order, while Legolas and Gimli were aiding various people here and there. Aragorn, after helping a young boy assist his grandfather onto an old gray mare, entered the royal stables. He grabbed a saddle and was about to strap it onto a gelding when he heard the neighing of a distressed horse. He quickly turned and saw the animal; he was kicking and pulling away and the two men who tried to control him with rope were having little luck.

Aragorn put the saddle aside and took a step toward the wild animal. "That horse is half mad, my lord. There's nothing you can do. Leave him," said a nearby man, looking upon the steed with a hint of fear in his eyes.

Aragorn only shook his head and continued to approach the animal. "_Fæste, stille nú, fæste, stille nú. Lac is drefed, gefrægon_," he began to mutter in Rohirric to the steed, taking one of the ropes from one of the struggling stable hands. The man looked upon Aragorn with wonder as the horse began to calm down. Soon enough the animal was nearly still, and the other man left in as much wonder as his companion. "_Hwæt nemnað ðe_?" Aragorn whispered to the animal.

"His name is Brego," a voice spoke. Aragorn turned and saw Éowyn nearby. "He was my cousin's horse."

Aragorn nodded sympathetically and turned back to Brego. "_Brego? Ðin nama is cynglic_," he said with a slight smile. The horse started becoming panicky again as Aragorn spoke, and his slight smile turned into a frown. "_Man le trasta, Brego? Man cenich_?" he spoke automatically in his childhood tongue.

His thoughts were broken by Éowyn's voice. "I've heard of the magic of elves, but I did not look for it in a Ranger from the North." She said this with slight humor, and then sobered. "You speak as one of their own."

Aragorn started stroking Brego's nose. "I was raised in Rivendell for a time," he said. Éowyn looked upon him with amazement, but before she could comment, the Dúnadan said, "Turn this fellow free. He has seen enough of war." He handed her the rope and walked out of the stables.

O0O0O0O

Jack Sparrow idly leaned against a pillar in the main hallway of Meduseld, casually glancing about the large room to see if anything of much importance was left behind in the city's haste. He once thought about bringing the barrel of rum, but that thought quickly vanished. Knowing his luck, he was bound to lose it on the road, and he had no desire to see it gone quite yet. In all of his time in Middle-earth, nothing extremely drastic had happened to him, and his luck was bound to run out eventually; losing all of that rum would certainly be unlucky.

His thoughts were broken by the clash of steel upon steel. He immediately drew his pistol and leaned against the backside of the pillar. Cautiously he peered from behind it, and relaxed when he saw Aragorn and Éowyn, the former with a knife and the latter with a sword.

Aragorn brought his knife down, but Éowyn did not move for a moment. Finally, she walked over to a chest, sheathed the sword, and closed it. The two spoke for a while, though Jack did not catch any of their words. After about a minute of quiet speech, Aragorn politely bowed and left the hall.

Jack, at first, followed Aragorn with his gaze, but his eyes soon turned upon Éowyn's face. He saw many emotions mixed in her expression: determination, admiration, independence- love? Jack blinked and tried to look at her face again, thinking he had read the expression wrong, but she had turned away.

O0O0O0O

The king walked out of the Golden Hall and down the steps to his horse, Snowmane. To Gandalf he had given Shadowfax, considering that the old wizard had saved him from utter corruption and that Shadowfax had taken a great liking to the wizard. Snowmane was of a strong breed, and though he was not nearly as great as Shadowfax, he would do.

He mounted his steed and began riding down the hill upon which his city stood. As he and his guard passed, his citizens started to join in the procession. Soon he reached the gate and it was opened before him without a word spoken. Théoden rode through it, and he rode all the way down to his son's grave. There he turned back and looked upon his city once more. Doubt was in his eyes, but it soon vanished. This was his decision, and he would follow it through to the very end, whether the end be for good or for ill. He turned his head away from Edoras, took a deep breath, and bade Snowmane forward.


	23. The Road to Helm's Deep

Chapter 23: The Road to Helm's Deep

For several hours, the population of Edoras made its way to Helm's Deep. They expected to make it there by tomorrow afternoon if nothing hindered them. The remnants of the Company were often spread about in the large procession throughout the journey, but at this time, they all were with Éowyn and the King. All, that is, except for Legolas and Jack. Legolas was at the front, his elven sight a valuable aid in spotting approaching enemies. Jack was further in the back with Éothain and Freda, both whom he had taken a liking to, though he was not quite ready to admit it to the others.

Gimli was upon Arod by himself, telling Anamaria and Éowyn about dwarves, a long conversation that had started with an innocent question from Anamaria about his axe. Somehow, the conversation had moved from dwarvish weapons to dwarvish women.

"It's true you don't see many dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they are often mistaken for dwarf men," Gimli explained to the women.

Éowyn glanced back at Aragorn, who mouthed, "It's the beards." Anamaria caught this, glanced at Éowyn, and both stifled their chuckles.

Gimli was completely oblivious to the quiet exchange between them. "And this in turn has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women," he continued. "And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!" Éowyn and Anamaria laughed at the ludicrous thought. Gimli chuckled as well. "Which is of course ridiculous, as you fine ladies know. The notion of it all! Some in the race of Men are a tad ignorant, no offense meant to anyone here, of course…"

Gimli was still babbling, and Anamaria was getting a bit bored with it all. Glancing back at Aragorn and Will, she shot them a wicked grin, grabbed the reins of Arod and kicked her horse into a light canter. Arod ran alongside them and the poor dwarf was caught off guard. He promptly flew from his horse and nearly onto Éowyn. Anamaria stopped both of the horses, and when her eyes met Éowyn's, they both burst out laughing. As Éowyn helped Gimli up, still chuckling, he muttered something under his breath, shooting Anamaria a dark look.

King Théoden slightly shook his head, but did not seem to mind the commotion all that much. He looked to Éowyn, affection clear in his gaze. "I have not seen my niece smile in a long time." Aragorn and Will glanced at one other, unsure if this comment was directed to them or if he was talking to himself.

Nevertheless, he continued, and they turned back to him. "She was a girl when they brought her father back dead. Cut down by orcs." The other two men glanced at one other again, but said nothing. "She watched her mother succumb to grief and she was left alone to tend her king in growing fear, doomed to wait upon an old man who should have loved her as a father." Will glanced sympathetically at the woman; he knew well how life was as an orphan. Aragorn wanted to comfort the king and relieve him of his woes, but he found no words to say. He glanced once more upon the shieldmaiden and his pity for her ever increased.

Meanwhile, as all of this occurred, Jack was chatting idly with Freda and Éothain. They were both brave children, which he admired.

"What part of Rohan are you two from?" he asked.

"The Westfold, lord," the boy answered.

"No lord, lad. Just call me captain."

"As you wish, lo-, err, captain."

"Where are you from?" Freda bluntly asked.

"Freda!" Éothain started, but Jack held up his hand.

"No worries, mate," he said. He thought on his answer for a moment and decided to tell the truth- well, part of it. "I come from a far away land, where there are many ships sailing upon the bright blue waters of the sea, where the gulls cry all day, and the dolphins sing at night, and the sun is brighter than any gold I've ever seen- as wonderful as gold is." The children nodded, though he was unsure if they actually understood some of it, considering they likely had never seen the ocean before.

"It sounds nice," Freda said. "I would like to see it."

"Aye," Jack nodded. "'tis a lovely place indeed." He fell silent; he missed the Caribbean and the wide-open seas that took him wherever he pleased. He idly wondered if he would ever see his world again. A part of him wondered how bad it would be if he was stuck here the rest of his days, but banished the thought from his mind before he could think upon it.

O0O0O0O

Will sat on a stone, deep in his thoughts. Once the sun had set and the last light left the sky, they stopped for the night, for the king had deemed it too dangerous to go wandering with such a large, vulnerable group in the dark. He saw Aragorn a few yards away, deep in conversation with Éowyn. Anamaria, he knew, was sharpening her sword somewhere nearby, but he knew not where Gimli and Legolas were. Jack, he suspected, was with the two children. While the other man would not admit it, it was obvious that Jack held some sort of strange affection for them.

He contemplated over the events of the last few days, the days without Elizabeth by his side. It relieved him to know that she was safe with the hobbits, somewhere; Gandalf did not seem to worry over them too much, so logically he should not, either. Despite the wizard's reassurance, he worried nonetheless. As he thought about his beloved, he was suddenly overcome with grief; he missed seeing his wife and her beautiful face and missed listening to her wonderful voice. He prayed that he would see her again soon.

Will suddenly looked up, sensing someone nearby, and saw Legolas hovering over him.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked the elf.

"Longer than you knew I was here, I believe," the other replied, a smile tugging at his lips. He immediately sobered. "You were so deep within your thoughts that you would have not even felt the presence of the dwarf standing near you. What ails you, my friend?" Legolas sat down next to the young man.

"I was just thinking of my wife," he said, looking down at his hands. "I miss her."

"We all miss her, and the hobbits as well," said Legolas gently. "Do not fear; we shall see them again."

Will nodded, but did not reply. They sat for a moment in silence, but it was interrupted by the arrival of Éowyn. She held in one hand a small black pot and in the other two bowls and two spoons.

"I made some soup for your Company; only Aragorn took a bowl, so there is plenty left, if you wish it."

"Sure, we'll have some," Will said with a smile before Legolas could make any offers. She smiled as she poured soup into the bowls and handed them to the elf and man. The young man continued to smile as he took the dish; the last time he had soup was with Elizabeth in Rivendell. It was delicious.

As he thought about his wife, his gaze strayed to the area surrounding him. Will's eyes fell upon Aragorn, and he frowned lightly; was it just the firelight playing tricks, or did the Ranger look... ill?

"I find it curious," Éowyn started, bringing Will back to the present, "that even in this dim lighting you both have such similar facial features. Is that common among elves?"

"Indeed not," said Legolas. "I have never heard of such an occurrence before; we often look quite distinct from Men."

"And both Elrond and Celeborn found it odd as well," pointed out Will. He dipped his spoon in the soup and took a bite, and Legolas followed.

The Rohir was about to speak when suddenly a frantic woman came up to her, speaking rapidly in Rohirric. Éowyn excused herself from the elf and man, and the two were only able to nod as she quickly led the other away, speaking to her in calmly in her native tongue.

The moment she was out of sight Will gagged, his spoonful falling back into the bowl. Legolas swallowed and rasped, "You should have at least tried to swallow it."

"That was terrible!" was the young man's only comment. He coughed a few times before dumping the bowl of soup behind the boulder he sat upon; Legolas' food swiftly followed.

Further away in the large camp, Anamaria wandered about the peoples, ignoring the curious looks shot her way. She was quite aware that she stood out among these fair-haired people and really did not care. What puzzled her more were the people who seemed to recognize her and mutter 'my lady' as she passed. The young woman could only wonder how they saw her as a 'lady'. She supposed it was due to the fact that she was in the company of Gandalf, Aragorn, and the others, who must seem like great lords to these townsfolk, freeing their king of an evil spell and all. But when she compared herself to Éowyn, who was most certainly a noblewoman, she considered herself far from it.

'_Then again_,' thought Anamaria, _'she's not too different from me, once you get beneath her rank._'

Before her thought train could continue, she nearly tripped over a small bundle on the ground. The woman soon discovered that the small bundle was a little girl, and she was crying. Anamaria grimaced and looked around for some sort of parental figure. When she saw none, she sighed in resignation and crouched down to get a better look at the girl. The child did not seem to realize she was there. "Oy, girl, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to look at her face. The girl looked up at the voice. Her tanned face was red and puffy, and her blonde hair disheveled and dirty.

She sniffled. "I- I- I lost- lost my- my mama," she stuttered, tears pouring down her face.

"Well, crying will not get you anywhere," Anamaria stated, pulling the girl to her feet. "Never got me nowhere." The girl looked up at her, still sniffling, but now there was curiosity within her eyes. "Now, what's your name?"

"Le- Leoma," she muttered.

"Well, Leoma," started Anamaria, "let's look for your ma, alright?"

Leoma nodded, and Anamaria took her hand and led her around the crowds. She asked the many people they passed if they knew the girl's mother, but no one seemed to recognize her. As they wandered about, the moon rose above the eastern plains far away, illuminating the grounds far and wide. It became harder to navigate around the people, but they seemed to have fortune upon their side and bumped into no one. That is, no one until Anamaria collided into Éowyn, who was attempting to calm down a hysterical woman.

"Oy!" Anamaria said with a frown. "Watch where you're- oh, Éowyn!" Her frown rapidly turned into a smile. Though the woman did not stand on ceremony, the shieldmaiden did not seem to mind. "Sorry, did not see you there. So bloody dark, can't see a thing. Someone should start more fires or something. Anyhow, you think you can help us?"

"What is your need?" Éowyn asked as the woman that she was talking to took a deep breath.

"Have a lost girl on my hands. Her name is-"

"Leoma?" the woman asked.

"Mama!" The girl ran past Éowyn and into her mother's arms. As the two hugged and kissed each other, Éowyn and Anamaria crept away.

"That solves both of our problems," Éowyn said with a smile. Anamaria nodded.

"Aye. Now, I'm off to sleep. Where're Jack and the others?"

"I will lead you to them." Anamaria nodded gratefully and began to follow her. After a moment's silence, Éowyn said, "May I ask you something, la-"

"Anamaria. I don't stand on ceremony."

"Very well then, Anamaria," she answered with a smile. "And I request you call me simply Éowyn, as well."

"As I already have," said Anamaria with a laugh.

"Yes… well, if I may be so bold, where do you hail from?"

"The North," she said quickly.

"From where the lord Aragorn comes from?" Éowyn asked. "Are your friends of his kin? Of the Dúnedain?"

"The what?" Anamaria asked.

"Dúnedain. Lord Aragorn is one of the Dúnedain, Men of the West."

"Oh- uh, no. Me, Will, an' Jack are not of these Dúnedain. We're just friends of Aragorn, like Gimli and Legolas."

"So, Lord Will and Lord Jack are… of your kin?"

Anamaria burst out laughing. "Those two ain't lords at all; if one is anything, Jack is a captain, but he's a captain with no ship, so I suppose it don't matter much. And no, we're not related to one another. I am just friends with 'em."

Éowyn simply nodded at her response and she quietly led the rest of the way to where the Fellowship rested.

O0O0O0O

"I saw that look upon your face, Aragorn," Legolas said suddenly the next day as they walked with the crowd to Helm's Deep.

"What look?" he asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Last night," the elf clarified, a smile tugging at his lips. "You were thinking of her again."

Aragorn sighed, raising his hands. "You caught me, friend!" he declared, slightly shaking his head. "How can I not?"

Will rode up to join them, Anamaria and Jack close behind him. He looked between Aragorn and Legolas. "Is something going on?"

"Nothing-" Aragorn started, but Legolas cut in.

"He thinks of his love, far away in Imladris." Legolas shot his friend a small smile and Will grinned.

Jack easily overheard Legolas' comment. "Arwen, eh?" He grinned broadly. "Lovely lass, lovely lass. Quite the catch, Aragorn."

"I would not refer to her as a 'catch'-" Aragorn protested, but the others laughed.

"You have indeed captured her heart, Aragorn," said Legolas. "And she is one of the finest _ellith_ I have ever known, myself."

Gimli, who was walking alongside Legolas and Arod, grinned and nodded in agreement. "The lady Arwen is indeed a fine elf, and that coming from a dwarf, now… that is saying something, you know." He chuckled, glancing up at Legolas, who smiled back.

Anamaria grinned and shook her head. "Leave the poor man alone." Her facial expression, however, said the exact opposite.

Jack jumped off Nithhad, with not much grace on his part, and gave her a mocking bow. "Your wish is my command, dear lady." Anamaria scowled at Jack and kicked at him. He deftly dodged her attack and jumped back onto his own horse. Seeing that she was not willing to relent so easily and having no desire to have bodily harm done upon his character, Jack broke into a canter and rode ahead of the group; Anamaria was soon right behind him. Will shot the two a bemused look, shrugged to the other three, and took off behind them.

Gimli smiled as they rode away. "Interesting companions we have."

Legolas nodded. "Indeed. I shall watch Anamaria, lest Jack says something that gives her good reason to strangle him." Aragorn and Gimli chuckled. Before Legolas took off, however, he looked down at Gimli and said, "Watch after Arod."

"What!" demanded the dwarf. "I can't watch over the horse! No, wait, come back here, elf!" By the time Gimli stopped yelling, he was gone from sight.

"Bloody elf," Gimli muttered under his breath, looking warily up at Arod. The horse just snorted at the dwarf and kept walking.

"I will look after him," someone volunteered. Aragorn and Gimli turned and saw Éowyn.

Gimli smiled. "If you would, my lady. I have a certain elf to deal with." Éowyn laughed heartily and Gimli took off, leaving Aragorn and her alone.

They were silent for a moment, but soon the woman broke the stillness. "Where is she?" Aragorn looked at her questioningly, and she nodded towards the Evenstar pendant. "The woman who gave you that jewel." The Dúnadan was silent for a long moment. When he would not speak, she spoke hesitantly. "My lord?"

He sighed lightly and was about to say something when a cry interrupted him. He handed the reins of Hasufel to Éowyn and ran towards the direction from which the cry came from.

The Ranger raced up a slope and saw Legolas kick something. It rolled over and to his disgust, he saw it was an orc. Nearby was a hideous warg, and a few yards away he saw Gamling ride to a shape upon the ground. To his horror, he saw it was Háma, his neck torn open and his dead horse lying nearby.

Legolas looked up to Aragorn, the light of battle within his eyes. "A scout!"

The man's eyes widened and he started running down the hill to find the king. Thankfully, he did not have to search long; Théoden was at the head of the group, looking at Aragorn.

"Wargs! Wargs, we're under attack!" he shouted. Once the people heard his shouts, chaos ensued. The townspeople looked at each other frantically, unsure where to go, and many of the children began to cry.

"All riders to the head of the column!" the king yelled to his soldiers.

Three soldiers helped Gimli up on Arod as he shouted at them, "Get me up there, I'm a rider!" Jack and Will relieved the guards of the job, and they both shoved Gimli on top of the horse. Before he could yell at them for their rough treatment, they raced back to their own horses and mounted them as fast as possible.

"C'mon, let's kill some orcs!" Jack shouted with a feral grin, grabbing onto the reins and breaking into a canter.

"He said wargs!" Will shouted back at him. "What's a warg?"

"Don't know, don't care!" he shouted back.

As they rode, Aragorn pulled himself up onto Hasufel and hastily made his way over to Jack and Will. Behind him rode an uncomfortable Gimli and a confident Anamaria who was not about to be left behind. Éowyn looked at Aragorn for a moment, and then glanced at Anamaria, and not without a little envy. She wished to fight, but her uncle had commanded her to lead the townsfolk to Helm's Deep, and it was her duty to do so. She exhaled and turned away, herding her people towards the fortress as the soldiers rode away.

Legolas stood at the top of a steep slope, shooting at the wargs and their riders as they quickly approached. He heard the horses, turned, and saw Arod. Using his elven agility and grace, he flipped onto the back of the horse and felt Gimli grab his shoulder for support.

"This is no way for a dwarf to go into battle!" the elf heard his friend grumble. Legolas was about to reply, but all thoughts of jest disappeared when the two enemies collided.

Will was unable completely to abolish his horror when he first looked upon the wargs, even at the speed that he rode. They looked like large, contorted dogs with the agility of cats. Dirty, smelly, and covered in fleas, these beasts were trained to kill in the most gruesome of ways. The young man shuddered, but all thoughts left his mind as he concentrated on wielding a sword, staying on his horse, and not dying all at the same time.

Jack was having a bit of a difficult time just staying on his horse and avoiding death. He tried to draw his sword, but that seemed impossible to do without falling off. For a moment, he idly wondered how others did it, but suddenly he laughed aloud and drew his pistol. As the pirate carefully loaded it, Nithhad dodged all of the wargs and the blades of their riders. Jack finally loaded the barrel, aimed his pistol at a warg, and fired. The noise startled everyone nearby and a couple of horses and wargs went haywire. Nobody, however, could see where the source of the noise came from in all the pandemonium. Jack grinned as the warg fell dead and reloaded, glad to have his gun with him.

Gimli had fallen off the horse right at the beginning of the battle. For that, he was grateful; horseback was no way for a dwarf to fight. Unfortunately, however, he had a dead warg on top of him that he could not push off. Even more unfortunate for him, though, was the orc on top of the warg. Gimli, however, was a seasoned warrior with a quick mind and broke the orc's neck easily. Unfortunately, that had just added to the weight on top of him already.

Legolas' bow had proven excellent help in the battle; he already had felled several wargs and orcs alike. The whole time he kept an open eye out for his companions, seeing if they were ever in need of aid. He would have helped Gimli, of course, but knowing the stubborn dwarf he would never take any type of help from an elf unless it were a life or death situation, and right now he was handling himself well enough.

Anamaria was comfortable enough using her blade on top of her steed; well, as comfortable as one can be for a first-timer. She noted with annoyance that many of the orcs targeted her. They learned quickly that she was no helpless target once they found a blade in their gut. She heard several shots throughout the battle and grinned when she saw Jack reloading and shooting again. She swiftly turned back to the battle at hand, however, when yet again another orc dived for her.

Aragorn concentrated on his friends and foes alike. Hearing a loud noise many a time, he knew that Jack had found his weapon of choice. He once saw Will ride by uneasily, sword in hand, but he was still alive. Several orcs seemed to steer straight for Anamaria but she quickly set them in their place. Legolas, as always, battled with a concentrated ease. The Ranger looked around for Gimli and he soon spotted him on the ground, a large dead warg on top of him and another live one on top of the dead creature. Acting quickly, the man grabbed a spear that was sticking out of the ground and threw it into the beast's belly. The poor dwarf now had two dead wargs on him and did not look very comfortable.

Aragorn was about to go and help him out when a warg suddenly threw him off his horse. He looked about himself and found Hasufel on the ground, either gravely wounded or dead from the beast's attack. The Ranger saw the same warg that had thrown him off snarl and charge at him again. Aragorn readied himself and suddenly he grabbed hold of the warg's saddle and pulled himself on top of the warg and right behind its rider. The rider and Aragorn tussled with one another, but the orc proved victorious and he quickly found himself hanging by the saddle. The Ranger pulled out the elven blade gifted to him by Celeborn and thrust it into the orc's chest. The warg-rider was surprised by the sudden attack, but unfortunately did not falter. Instead, he reached for Aragorn's neck and started to strangle him. Aragorn was quickly losing air and knew he had to act fast. He jerked the dagger out of the orc, causing the creature to lose his balance and fall off the warg. The rider tried to grab for a hold to stop his fall, but instead managed to grab the Evenstar pendant and rip it from Aragorn's neck as he fell. Distracted by the action, the man's grip loosened and the elven knife flew out of his hand. Aragorn cursed and attempted to release his grip to retrieve both pendant and knife, but to his dismay, he found his hand entangled within the straps of the saddle.

He looked to where the warg ran and paled. The mad beast was heading right to the cliff side, looking like it had no intentions on slowing down. He struggled even more to free himself, but his hand remained trapped. Suddenly, he felt himself fall.

It was not long until his head struck something hard, and he knew no more.


	24. The Aftermath

Chapter 24: The Aftermath

Jack shot the final warg in sight and it fell to the ground gracelessly. He glanced at his trusty pistol reverently and sheathed it as he looked about him; his modern weapon seemed to have helped them quite a bit, and certainly had kept him clear of any real danger of being skewered. His delight soon withered away, however, when he glanced at the carnage about him. He had no qualms with violence, but the aftermath of battle was never a pretty sight. Several horses lay about the area, blood soaking their corpses and the ground around them. With many of the horses lay their riders; a third of those who had ridden into this battle would never ride out again. Some of the dead were crushed by their own steeds, while others were stabbed by an orc or mauled by a warg.

Jack turned away from the dead and brought his focus onto the living. The soldiers that were unscathed or had few wounds were gathering the stray horses or looking for possible survivors. Turning about as he glanced at his surroundings, Jack saw the king, Legolas, Will, and Gimli near a ledge. However, he could spot neither Anamaria nor Aragorn. He frowned and began to search among the bodies of the horses and the soldiers, hoping rather fervently that he would not find one of them under a horse.

To his grief, he did. "Anamaria," he muttered, and rushed over to the still body on the ground.

O0O0O0O

Gimli grunted as the second warg fell on top of him; this was _not_ how he wished to do battle. Gathering all the strength he could muster, he forced his arms from underneath the two beasts, took a deep breath, and lifted. He lifted their massive bodies about an inch, and was able to move himself out the same distance, but he could not keep his hold and slowly lowered the carcasses back onto his body. Taking another deep breath, he tried once again to remove himself from underneath the creatures, and tried it again a third time. After accomplishing nothing, he sighed and began to think of a better way of achieving this.

Suddenly he heard light laughter behind him. He turned his head as much as he could and saw the face of the person he least wanted to see at the moment: Legolas. Legolas was smiling in his evil elvish way, and Gimli knew that if he did not get out soon, he would never hear the end of it.

Legolas smiled down upon him. "Do you need some aid, Master Dwarf?"

"Indeed not!" he immediately replied. "I do not need any aid from an _elf_ of all creatures."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. But I shall be waiting here just in case, my dear friend."

Despite it not seeming even possible, Gimli went redder in the face. Not to be embarrassed and overridden by the elf, he took one last deep breath and lifted with all his might. This time, given possibly by the extra adrenaline in his system from the elf's arrogance, he lifted the two beasts high enough to be able to move his legs. Still lifting the creatures, he finally removed his body from under the wargs. He heavily dropped the corpses with a grunt.

Legolas looked at him as if mildly impressed. Gimli decided to play his game. "I don't suppose you would be able to do that, Master Elf."

"Indeed, I would not have any reason to, seeing as I am not so clumsy as to get myself under a warg in the first place."

Gimli idly wondered where Aragorn was to supply the laughter, but the Heir of Isildur was not present. The dwarf looked about and Legolas eyed him with mild curiosity; Gimli was never slow with a rebuttal. "Say, where is Aragorn?" he asked.

Legolas seemed suddenly to realize that his old friend was not present. He looked around the field and could not see the man anywhere in sight. "Aragorn?" the elf called out, slight concern in his voice.

"Aragorn?" Gimli mimicked.

Legolas was about to head to Théoden, but his sensitive elven ears heard soft, evil laughter. Looking about, he found that the laughter came from a near-dead orc, an orc who looked extremely pleased about something. The orc caught the elf's stare and started to laugh even harder. Gimli followed the elf's gaze and his axe was upon the orc's neck quicker than Legolas thought possible of his friend.

"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing," he growled.

The orc grinned. "He's… dead." The creature coughed, and even the dimmest man would be able to tell that his life was near its end. "He took a little tumble off the cliff," he continued with a malicious grin.

Legolas grabbed the orc and slightly raised him to his face. "You lie," he muttered darkly as if he dared the orc to continue.

The foul creature laughed once more, and then fell silent. He was dead. The elf threw the orc back to the ground, but before he turned away, a glimmer caught his eye. Looking to the orc's hand, he discovered, to his great horror, that the orc held the Evenstar. Even though it was covered in blood and grime, the necklace shimmered through it. Legolas grasped the necklace tightly and made his way to the edge of the cliff. Looking down, he could see no sign of either the warg or Aragorn. Gimli looked down beside the elf and his heart sank. No man, whatever his bloodline, could have survived such a fall.

Both were so occupied with the thoughts streaming through their minds that neither noticed the king, followed by Will, come up behind them.

O0O0O0O

Will slew his last foe just as the remaining wargs fled. His horse had taken no injuries and he received only a shallow scratch on his arm. Will considered himself very fortunate, especially when he looked upon the dead Rohirrim that littered the battlefield. The young man looked about further and spotted a small group of Rohirrim gathering the wounded and aiding them up on the horses. He walked over to them and handed over his own horse, Wistan, to a younger Rohirrim soldier. He would help in any way he could, but first he needed to find his companions.

He soon found Legolas and Gimli at the edge of the cliffs, looking downward. He wondered about this and jogged up to them, not noticing that King Théoden started to follow.

He stopped behind Legolas and was surprised that the elf did not notice his presence as he usually did. Will was about to speak when he heard the king yell out directions to his men. He then turned to Legolas, still within his own thoughts.

"Come," Théoden said gently. Will looked at Legolas in confusion, but the elf did not meet his gaze. He quickly turned then to Gimli and found that he was looking down at his feet, something very unusual for the dwarf who always held his head up high.

Just as the young man was about to speak, he saw something in the corner of his eye. But a few feet away, glittering with black blood, was Aragorn's knife. Will felt a lump in his throat as he retrieved the blade; where was its owner? "Gimli?" he started, unable to keep the trepidation out of his voice. "What happened?"

The dwarf glanced up at the blacksmith. "Let us find the others first, and then I shall explain." Will felt the lump in his throat expand; he heard the slight quiver in his friend's voice and, glancing down at the knife in his hand, he found that he was afraid to hear what Gimli had to say.

O0O0O0O

Jack was at Anamaria's side in an instant, quickly scanning her seemingly frail form. She bore a large gash on her arm and most of the lower half of her body was under her horse, Ceorl. He immediately checked to see if she still lived and was relieved to hear a beat.

The man stood up and tried to push the dead horse off her. When he realized that he did not have the strength to move the carcass, Jack grabbed the woman under her arms, took a deep breath, and pulled with all his might. After a couple of tugs, she was free.

He immediately checked her pulse again and was thankful to see that her heart still had a beat. The captain looked to see if she had any more injuries, and frowned when he saw her left foot in an awkward position. He took off her boot and his frown deepened. He was not sure what happened to it, but it did not look all that healthy. Aragorn would need to look at it.

He heard a low groan and swiftly turned his attention to Anamaria's face. She moaned once more and wearily opened her eyes. "Ugh… what happened? Jack, is that you?"

"It's me, love," he said softly. "Do you remember what happened?"

She closed her eyes, as if trying to remember. "Yes… we were in battle against orcs and some strange beasts-"

"Wargs," Jack filled in.

"Wargs. Then something happened to me horse, and I think I fell."

"Yea, you have it. It looks like a warg bit your poor nag, and something happened to your ankle in the fall. But what's with the gash in your arm?"

She slowly turned her head to her left arm and stared at it. "I don't remember," she admitted reluctantly. "I suppose an orc got me as the horse fell."

Jack grunted noncommittally and looked once more at her ankle. It was red and slightly swollen, but he was not sure if it was broken or not. "Say, Anamaria, can you move your left foot at all?" Anamaria slowly sat up and looked at her ankle with a frown. She concentrated and was able to move it just a little, but she was unable to hold back a wince as she did. "Right," Jack muttered. "If you can move it, it's not broken- eh, I think. But it doesn't look too bad. C'mon, we need to find you a new horse. You'll never make it to Helm's Deep on that leg."

O0O0O0O

Slowly falling. Could two such words actually be put in the same sentence together and make sense? But indeed, that is how it felt when he tumbled off the cliff with the warg. It seemed as if his whole life passed before his eyes. His mother caring for him as a child, his training in the fine art of swordsmanship, learning about his heritage, serving Rohan and Gondor, pledging his love to Arwen upon Cerin Amroth, Gollum, meeting the large company in Bree, the Council of Elrond, Gandalf falling, Boromir's and Gibbs' death, Gandalf's return…

Of course, he had seen this swift recollection of memories happen before many times in his life; but it seemed that this would be the last time that it would ever happen. The name Estel had served him well, but now there was no hope of surviving this fall. He prayed to the Valar that Arwen would make it to Valinor safely.

The warg broke its body against the rocks, and Aragorn was brought to reality for but a moment as he fell on top of the creature. A second later consciousness fled him, and his last thought went out to everyone he had known, everyone he had fought for, and everyone he had failed.

'_I'm sorry_.'


	25. Death Once More

Chapter 25: Death Once More

He could not be dead. It was impossible. He simply could not be dead.

Legolas was numb. On the outside he looked cool and impassive, but inside his emotions were whirling unlike they have ever done before in his life. Every now and then he had experienced the death of a comrade, but Aragorn- it just was not possible. Yes, he knew that one day the man would die, but now? No, the Enemy still raged on in the East. Saruman was still planning some sort of attack on Rohan. The thrones of Gondor and Arnor still lay empty. This was not how it was supposed to be.

The elf looked behind him to his unexpected friend, Gimli. Gimli was lost in his own thoughts, but even he could not begin to feel the unfathomable sorrow that Legolas felt. He had met only Aragorn a few years ago, but they became instant friends. It was Legolas, actually, that helped convince his father to keep Gollum in Mirkwood's care.

Gimli looked up at the elf, sensing the other's gaze upon him. The dwarf shot him a small smile. "It will be all right," he said, but Gimli's tone said everything but that. Nothing was all right. The heir of Isildur, the foster-son of Master Elrond, his friend… was gone. Elrond- oh, how would he break the news to him? Or Arwen? Or to Gandalf, for that matter? Gandalf had great faith in him, and Legolas knew that they were close friends… and Arwen's heart would shatter from the grief.

The elf glanced at Jack, who sat with Anamaria upon his horse. Anamaria's ankle was only sprained, but she would not be able to walk without support for at least a few days. The gash in her left arm was bound and she would not have use of that arm for a while, either. He noted that she was not complaining about having to share a horse with Jack, who was a more incompetent rider than she, and he saw that Jack was not making fun of her for being a better rider and yet having her horse killed in battle. Both were solemn and lost in their own thoughts.

Jack's thoughts were similar to what went through Legolas' mind. When Gimli broke the news to Will, Anamaria, and him, they were completely shocked and fell into an unnatural silence. Jack simply did not consider Aragorn's death right at all. He had not known the Ranger for long, but he knew a good man when he saw one, and Aragorn was so good that it made him ill at times. In the end, this man had a future for himself and a destiny to fulfill; untimely deaths did tend to come when they were the most inconvenient, but his was simply not _right_.

He glanced over at Will. In the young man's belt was Aragorn's cleaned blade; he had taken the time to remove the orc blood, even though its owner would never use it again. The blacksmith soon caught his friend's glance but kept his silence. Jack could not blame him for the lack of conversation and so he turned his gaze forward. They were now climbing up a sloping hill and were about to come to the summit.

"This news will kill Arwen," muttered Anamaria in front of him. Jack nodded grimly.

"Considering how this elf here is looking, can't say I have much hope for her."

Anamaria glanced at Legolas. He seemed completely in his own world and she would not be surprised if he did not hear a battle right in front of him in his current state. "Yea," was the only thing she said in reply. Before more could be said, the group came to the top of the hill and their grief abated for a moment at the magnificent sight in front of them.

A long mountainside ran on the edge of the plains, and in a gorge in the mountain range there was a great stone fort built on a wall of the mountains. A great tower rose from it, and a long wall protected the area beyond it. A long causeway rose up to a pair of wooden doors, both of which were closed at the moment.

King Théoden said something to Gamling, and then talked to another one of his men who promptly took off towards the fortress after the king was finished. "Helm's Deep," said Théoden once the strangers of Rohan approached him. "The people of Rohan shall be safe here, and if we are indeed attacked by Saruman, it will hold through whatever he sends at us."

"It looks strong and well built," commented Gimli, who looked at it in wonder. "I do think it will hold, though if the dwarves were given a few years, it would be imperishable to even the Dark Lord himself."

"It will hold," said Théoden, and they headed down into the valley.

O0O0O0O

The gates were open by the time they reached Helm's Deep. It looked even more impressive up close and Gimli continued to look up at it in awe. Legolas seemed uncomfortable as they rode up the ramp to the keep, and Jack pointed that out to him.

"These stone walls are suffocating," the elf replied. "I am more comfortable within the trees." He said no more as they entered.

There were many to meet the company of riders, including the keeper of the fortress. He bowed low to the king. "My lord, we were not expecting you."

"I will not stay in the halls of Meduseld when battle rages on our doorstep," he said back, dismounting his steed. "How many men have you here? We originally had about three hundred, but lost many when we were ambushed by a large company of warg riders. Have the people of Edoras come?"

"Aye, sire," he replied. "They came but a few hours ago. We now have near a thousand soldiers from many parts of Rohan, but thrice the amount of refugees; most are now in the depths of the caverns."

Théoden nodded. "And our supplies?"

The gatekeeper shook his head. "Not as much as we should have, my lord. We can last a week at most. Many refugees came from the Westfold empty-handed, where their homes were burned to the ground; they were lucky to leave with their lives."

Théoden handed the reins of his horse to Gamling and nodded to the keeper. "Please find food and water for these soldiers, and any space where they could rest, for they are weary." He then turned to Gamling. "I would take Snowmane to the stables myself, but I must look at our supplies. If you would, Gamling." Gamling nodded and took his horse and the king's to the stables while the keeper led many of the weary and wounded to a place to rest.

The crowd started to thin and from it emerged Éowyn, who had watched the proceedings quietly. She had easily spotted Legolas, Gimli, Will, Jack, and Anamaria, but she did not see the one person that she missed the most out of the strangers.

The woman approached her uncle. "My lord," she said before he could leave. He turned to her. "How many were lost?"

He sighed. "Too many, sister-daughter, too many." With that, he walked away to fulfill his duties.

She turned to the five remaining, and she noted the look of grief drawn on all of their faces. "What has happened? Where is the Lord Aragorn?"

Will looked into her eyes and took a deep breath. "He fell," he said as evenly as he could, and still his voice cracked.

Her face paled. She drew a shuddering breath, which caused Jack to focus his attention on her. It was apparent to anyone who knew how to read emotions that she had respected him, admired him… maybe even loved him. She shortly nodded to the Company, turned around, and walked quickly away. And none could blame her, for they all felt as if they wanted to walk away as well. They wanted to run away from the grief they felt. They simply wanted to escape.

O0O0O0O

Pain. Not a new feeling, certainly. Pain was a feeling one dealt with when being a warrior of mankind. But it had been quite a while since he had felt such vivid pain, and he could not remember the last time his whole body was hurting so. He was in so much pain that his mind was already retreating into itself, for while he felt hurt beyond all imagination, he also felt as if he were floating on the clouds or on water… _water_…

There was something about water that was important, that he should remember. What was it that he had to remember about water? What was so important about water that the word itself would bring life into his seemingly dead mind? Ai, if only his head did not feel as if it would fall off at any moment…

_Falling_. Another word that brought his mind to life. What was so important about the word 'falling'? Did he fall out a tree? No, that was when he was five… landing on all those small rocks was painful…

Rocks. No, stones. No, no, _pebbles_. Why did he feel pebbles? Where on Arda were there so many pebbles, and water, and falling? Wait, falling was not a thing… or was it? He could not remember. But there was something he should remember about falling, water, and pebbles… and pain. Ah, yes, so much pain…

How long had it been since he last felt so much pain? He could not remember. He could not remember anything, now that he thought about it.

Now, now, start with the basics. Name… your name is Aragorn. Yes, you remember that much. Good, good. Now, where were you? Rivendell… no, no, not Rivendell… Minas Tirith? Nay, you have not been to Minas Tirith in years… as you told Boromir-

_Boromir_. He is dead. Yes, he died a short while ago, but _how_ long ago? He died, just like Gandalf died… wait, Gandalf was alive, yes, but Gibbs was not-

Wait. Who was Gibbs? Friend of Jack's, yes, you remember. But who was Jack? Captain Jack Sparrow, the strange man in the company of many others. Who? Will Turner, Elizabeth Turner, Anamaria, Jack… Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, Legolas, Éomer, King Théoden-

_King Théoden_. Now you remember. You were with him, and the Fellowship. No, wait, Gandalf was gone, the hobbits were gone, Elizabeth was gone… but the others, yes, they were there. But where was 'there'? There… King Théoden… Rohan… yes, he was in Rohan. Yes, you are in Rohan, yes. But where in Rohan?

_Edoras?_ No, certainly not in Edoras. There are not many pebbles in Edoras… are there? Is there falling in Edoras? Wait, falling was not a thing… yes, he was now rather certain it was not a thing like pebbles and water.

_Water_. Water like a river, certainly. And pebbles, pebbles on a riverbed! So he must be in a river. But why was he in a river? There was absolutely no reason for him to be in a river. And that still did not explain the pain and the word 'falling', and he was positive that falling was a word that should bring some memories.

Pain. Falling. River. Pebbles. _He fell into a river_. Ah, that was a new one. But certainly others have fallen into rivers, and he was certain that it did not hurt all that much…

_But falling from a cliff with a warg would._ Wait, warg? Where on Middle-earth did that thought came from? There are no wargs in Edoras, or Rohan-

_Saruman_. Yes, Saruman, that traitorous wizard. Warg riders of Saruman. They attacked you and the others, yes. Are the others safe? Yes. Yes, they are. But are you?

You do not know.

Put the pieces together. Rohan. Warg battle. Fell with warg. River. Pebbles. Pain.

They do not know where you are.

They lost you.

They believe you dead.

Yes, that made sense. You would not be in so much pain and lying on pebbles, with water splashing against your sides otherwise. Yes, that makes sense. But why did they not look for you?

No time. No time at all. Battle. Saruman. War. No time for the dead.

But you are not dead.

They do not know.

Show them that they were wrong.

Too much pain.

Go.

Too much pain.

Go now.

Too much pain.

They need you.

I cannot.

You can.

And he felt something nuzzle against his cheek. It felt familiar. Slowly, he cracked open an eye. "Brego," he muttered. "You've come."

O0O0O0O

He had to keep his mind busy. He had to focus on something else. Where could he be of use? What use could a lone elf be in the world of Men, when the two people who guided him through it were gone? Gandalf, he was gathering men at the Fords, and Aragorn… Aragorn…

He shook his head. No. He needed to think about something else. Gimli. Yes, he would find Gimli. Gimli would be so entranced with all of the stonework that he would certainly be happy to keep him occupied for hours on end. Gimli would certainly be able to talk about the magnificence of rocks for quite a while. Maybe his friend would send him to sleep, where haunting images of his deceased companion could not haunt his mind-

Legolas shook his head again. _'Concentrate. Find Gimli._' And with that, he left his room to find the dwarf.

Fortunately for him, he located the other easily. His friend was inspecting the stonework on the walls, completely lost within his own musings.

"I still do not see what you find so interesting about rocks," said Legolas lightly, hiding his true emotions and intentions for this conversation.

Gimli looked up from his musings to his friend. "And I shall never see what is so interesting about a tree," he retorted back.

"Care to tell me what is so interesting about the rocks?"

"Do my ears deceive me, or does an elf actually wish to know something about stonework?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "I am merely curious as to how a simple rock can make a dwarf so entranced for hours on end."

Gimli shook his head. "You just do not understand! You must look beneath the surface, into the heart of the stone…" And with that, the two friends were lost to the outside world, even if it were only for a brief time.

O0O0O0O

"Remind me as to why I am here."

"You are wounded."

"It's not bad."

"You nearly broke your ankle."

"'Nearly' being the key word. I didn't."

"But you are still wounded."

Anamaria furrowed her eyebrow and stared at Jack. "Just when were you so concerned about my welfare?"

Jack snorted. "I'm not. You're just insufferable when you're injured, and so for my own sanity I'm keeping you in here."

"You lost your sanity long ago."

"What's left of it, then."

She rolled her eyes. "You can't keep me in here."

"I can and will."

"I want to see you try."

Jack smirked at the young woman on the bed and pointed at the door. "I've got soldiers outside who are ready to drag you back here if you try and get out, savvy? I'm ready to see you try."

She glared at him. "You sneaky little-"

A knock on the door interrupted her, and Éowyn poked her head in. "Anamaria, I- oh, Captain Sparrow, I did not realize you would be in here."

Jack shook his head. "I was just about to leave, love." He turned once more to Anamaria, and gave her a sweeping bow. "I leave you in good hands, Lady Anamaria." She grabbed her pillow and threw it at him.

"That wasn't very nice," said Jack with a mock pout, picking up the pillow and throwing it back at her. Smiling at both of the women, he stepped out the door and shut it behind him.

Éowyn smiled slightly to Anamaria's look of frustration. "He means well, I think," she commented as she approached the bed.

"He can mean well when he wants to, but whether he means well or not doesn't make him any less annoying," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "So, what d'you need?"

"I came to see how you fare, and to keep you company, if you wish it. I know the pains of being bedridden." She gave the woman another small smile.

Anamaria nodded. "Certainly boring, that's for sure," she said sourly, "but you don't need to be here. I'm sure there are duties you have to perform."

Éowyn shook her head. "The wounded are healing, the hungry are fed, and the families that have lost someone have been notified." Her face became grim at the mention of the dead and she looked down at her hands.

Anamaria closed her eyes. Aragorn. Everyone but his family has been notified… well, if he had any. She did not know if he did, but she did know that there was a woman waiting for him in Rivendell that would be heartbroken.

"He will be missed," she muttered.

Éowyn nodded. "He will be. Though I knew him not long, I admired him greatly. He was kind, loyal, courageous…" She trailed off, and a lost look came into her eyes.

"Éowyn?" Anamaria asked; she has seen that look before. She saw it Elizabeth's eyes whenever she talked about Will, and saw it Arwen's eyes when she talked about Aragorn. "Did you… did you love him?"

The Rohir turned to her abruptly. "Love him? Who could not love such a noble man?"

"No, I mean _love_ him."

Éowyn shot her an unreadable look, but soon she closed her eyes. "I… I do not know," she finally whispered. "All I know is that… well, I suppose I do not know. But it doesn't matter," she said shortly, "for he is gone and not coming back." Her voice had changed from sorrowful and longing to level and cold.

Anamaria looked at her evenly. "It does matter," she insisted.

The other woman's cold look did not disappear. Her mood changed completely, she was now just as unreachable as she was when Anamaria first met the noblewoman in Edoras. "It does not." She stood up. "If you would excuse me, Anamaria, I have many duties to attend to." She turned around and headed for the door.

Anamaria, never to dodge an issue, looked annoyed that the other was trying to run away. "Éowyn, you did. It's as plain as daylight. But you cannot anymore, and you really shouldn't have in the first place." Éowyn stiffened at the comment, but Anamaria continued anyways. "Aragorn, he was-"

A sudden shout from beyond her door interrupted her, followed by a few more shouts. Anamaria and Éowyn looked at one another and Éowyn hurried out of the room to see what the commotion was about. Anamaria slowly got up and, using the wall for support, she limped over to the doorway.

"What's happening?" she asked a young soldier who was running towards the gates.

"He's alive!" he exclaimed. "He's alive!"

O0O0O0O

He made it. There it was, Helm's Deep. After many long hours of nonstop riding he had made it. Though thoroughly exhausted, he had not fallen off Brego and that was a large feat in itself. He had ridden as hard as he could manage when he saw that large army of Uruk-hai heading south towards the Rohan fortress, and it looked to be that his efforts would not be futile.

As he approached the causeway that led up to the gates, he heard shouts go through the Keep, though what they said he could not make out. He felt himself drifting as Brego started up the causeway and he could barely make out the calls for the gates to be opened.

The noise suddenly increased tenfold. He must be inside. The Dúnadan lifted his heavy eyelids and saw many people making way for him. He began to make the whispers out; apparently they took him for dead, as he had suspected. He mentally shook himself as his thoughts began to drift once more; he had to find King Théoden, had to tell him about the Uruk army coming right this way…

The horse stopped and he felt a hand on his leg. Aragorn glanced down to see Jack's emotionless face. He swung himself off Brego and stared the other man evenly in the eye. Jack turned to a nearby boy and told him to take the horse to the stables, and then stared back at the Ranger.

"Well, mate," said Jack finally. "You are looking remarkably well for a dead man."

"Thank you."

The other's face broke into a grin. "Nice to see you alive."

"It is wonderful to be alive," replied Aragorn, a smile playing on his face. "Where are-"

"Aragorn! You are the luckiest and the most reckless man I have ever known, and you shall be the death of me yet!"

Aragorn looked behind him and saw Gimli and Will pushing their way through the crowd that had gathered. Gimli shot him a mock glare that soon broke into a big smile. "I do think that you gave me my first white hairs, lad."

Aragorn chuckled. "My apologies, Gimli. I shall do the best I can to avoid an inconvenient death in the future."

Will smiled. "I will hold you to that." He walked up to the Ranger and embraced him. "I'm glad to see you alive, Aragorn," he muttered. "Seriously, my friend, do not do that to us again." Stepping back, the young man drew out Aragorn's elven knife and gave it back to its owner, who sheathed it gratefully.

Aragorn, despite his weariness, smiled broadly. "Thank you, I had thought I lost this. But I have no time for further conversation; tell me, where is-"

"No! You listen to me. I'm goin' to see him whether you like it or not!… no, I don't care about my leg, I can walk perfectly fine... don't you 'lady' me, I'm goin' to see him!"

"There she is," Jack said, smirking. Most of the crowd had finally disappeared, so he could make out Anamaria just a few yards away; a soldier was trying to stop her. "Anamaria, what are you doin' out here?"

Anamaria looked away from the soldier to Jack. "I'm trying to go see… Aragorn!" She spotted him behind her captain and roughly pushed past the soldier, who only shot her a glowering look as he gave up with her and went back to his duties. "There you are, you… useless leg!" She turned her attention from Aragorn to her wounded ankle. She leaned against the wall and sighed when her leg refused to cooperate with her. Though the young woman was loath to admit it, she was absolutely exhausted from that short walk. Limping around a fortress was harder work than she thought it would be.

Aragorn forgot his own fatigue and hurried over to Anamaria, the other three right behind him. "What happened?" he asked concernedly as he looked over her bandaged arm and ankle.

"Nothing much, really-"

"Just a large gash and a bad sprain," ended Will, shaking his head. "What are you doing out here?"

"Seeing what was causing the commotion," she replied.

"You should be in bed."

"Who are you, my mother?" she shot back.

"You're terribly grouchy when you're under the weather," said Jack, rolling his eyes. "Get back to bed."

"I don't have to listen to you, Jack."

"As your captain, I command you to-"

"We ain't on any ship, _Captain_."

"Don't make me carry you."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"I'd like to see you try."

His smirk grew larger, and before she knew it, the man had thrown her over his back. She let out a startled yelp and started hitting Jack as hard as she could with her good arm. He simply ignored it and her curses as he carried her up to her room.

The remaining friends chuckled as the two left. Aragorn ignored the protests that his bruised body gave when he laughed and turned to Gimli. "Where is the king? I must speak with him, and I have already wasted much time." Gimli pointed up to the Hornburg and Aragorn nodded his thanks as he took his leave.

"He does not look too well," muttered Will once he was out of sight.

Gimli nodded. "Once he is finished speaking with Théoden, we can lock him in the same room as Anamaria with a dozen healers. He'll thank us- later." Will chuckled, his heart much lighter than it was a few hours ago.

O0O0O0O

He was alive. He could not believe it. The moment he heard the rumors he started for the gates. It just so happened that he did not even need to go to the gates, for there was Aragorn coming up the steps of the Hornburg. Legolas put on a look of disinterest as he stepped in front of his friend, who did not even notice him until the elf was right in front of him.

Man and elf stared at one another evenly. Legolas could barely contain his happiness and concern, for Aragorn, while alive, looked thoroughly exhausted. His shoulders drooped, he was covered in sweat, and he had a deep cut in his left arm that desperately needed to be cleaned. He could barely stand, or so it seemed to the immortal.

Finally, Legolas interrupted the silence that had developed. "_Le abdollen_," he said. "You look terrible, as well," he added as if an afterthought. Aragorn raised an eyebrow, but soon swiftly grinned. Before the ranger could say anything in reply, Legolas remembered what he had found that Aragorn would want back. Reaching into a tunic pocket, he pulled out the Evenstar necklace and put it into Aragorn's hand.

Aragorn looked at the item in wonder, as if he were seeing it for the first time. It glittered in the afternoon sunlight, the jewels of the pendant catching all of the sun's rays. Finally, Aragorn looked up from it to his friend. "_Le hannon_," was all he said.

Neither noticed the young woman in the shadows, watching Aragorn with joy and sadness.

O0O0O0O

Théoden son of Thengel had seen many things in his days. One of the most remarkable incidents in his lifetime was happening right now. He had seen men who were assumed dead rise to life, but not often. And to say that he was surprised to see Aragorn alive would have been a large understatement.

"Lord Aragorn," he said. "I am glad to see you here."

"Lord Théoden King," said Aragorn with a bow. "I have some urgent news to tell you." Théoden looked at him with open curiosity and bade him to continue. "As I rode here, I came upon a great host heading South from the North. It was an army of Uruk-hai and they bore the symbol of the White Hand."

"Saruman," muttered Théoden, frowning to himself. He turned his attention back to Aragorn. "A great host, you say?"

"All of Isengard is emptied."

"How many?"

Aragorn took a deep breath. "Ten thousand strong, at the least."

The king's calm façade disappeared. "Ten thousand?"

The other man nodded. "It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men." He closed his eyes with a soft sigh, but swiftly opened them once more. "They will be here by nightfall."

Théoden was silent for a moment, but his look of alarm turned to a look of defiance. Looking Aragorn sternly in the eye, he merely said, "Let them come."

* * *

Le abdollen: You're late.  
Le hannon: Thank you.

A/N: It is 'le hannon' instead of 'hannon le' because David Salo, the man who pretty much developed all of the Tolkien languages in the movies, commented that 'le hannon' is the correct form and that there must had been a communication error since he was in US while he was helping PJ and the crew. He made this comment in an official discussion on TheOneRing website.

In the books, Gamling was the keeper of Helm's Deep. Obviously, he was not so in the movies, so I followed movie-verse in that aspect.


	26. Preparation

Chapter 26: Preparation

The fortress of Helm's Deep was busy with preparing for battle as the sun set beyond the western horizon. All the women and children left for the caverns while any men willing to take up arms prepared with the soldiers to fight. They had a little less than three thousand men, at least half of them mere farmers or tradesmen. Many of Rohan's soldiers were currently with Éomer in the Westfold; hopefully Gandalf would reach them in time.

As the inevitable battle drew closer, Anamaria quickly found herself arguing with the remaining companions of the Fellowship.

"I am not going into the caves to be treated like an invalid!" she snapped once more. "I can fight!"

"You cannot," Will insisted. "You are wounded and limping; you would surely be killed."

"I would not-"

"Yes, you would, love," Jack broke in. "We're fighting ten thousand of those Uruk-hai monsters we saw at Amon Hen, _and_ it will be dark, _and_ it looks like a storm will be upon us."

Anamaria was about to retort once more when Éowyn walked over to them, overhearing her loud protests. "Lady Anamaria," she said, avoiding the glances of the males gathered. "You can assist me with organizing any defenses, lest the men lose and we are last to defend the refugees."

Anamaria looked her in the eye and Éowyn held her gaze. Finally, she turned away and relented. "Fine," she muttered. The young woman spared one last foul glance at the men before limping away.

"My lords," Éowyn stiffly nodded her head in greeting and turned away, aiding Anamaria as they headed into the caves.

Anamaria muttered curses under her breath as the lady of Rohan assisted her into the caverns. Neither of them acknowledged anyone as they made their way through the hall and down a flight of stairs into the heart of the mountain. Anamaria stopped her low grumblings when they reached the bottom stair and gazed in wonder at the scene before her.

The torches held aloft by older lads were the only thing that lit up the darkness in the caves, but they were still a sight to behold. Glittering stalactites hung from the ceiling and great stalagmites sparkled on the ground; these masses of rock formed over centuries by water were truly a remarkable sight, the stones gleaming like bright stars in the night sky. Thousands of refugees were gathered tightly in the large space, waiting anxiously for the night to pass, hoping desperately that Rohan would be victorious this night with their loved ones still alive.

Éowyn led Anamaria to a more secluded part of the caverns where no one would disturb them. In the small area was already laid a few blankets and a pillow so she could rest and recover. The Rohir firmly insisted that the wounded woman lay down on the makeshift bed, and Anamaria reluctantly complied, though deep in her heart she was touched by the thoughtful gesture.

As Éowyn had led her to the caverns, the other woman had quickly noticed that she was clearly agitated about something. Now that Anamaria thought back on it, Éowyn was unusually stiff, cold, and formal in her manner of speech, even when she spoke with her. She waited as patiently as she was able to for the shieldmaiden to reveal what was bothering her. When five minutes of an uncomfortable silence passed by with no sign of any conversation developing, Anamaria could take no more.

"Éowyn, what's bothering you?" she asked outright. The lady turned to her and shot her a quizzical look. "You're obviously angry about something; tell me what's wrong. We can share our miseries with one another."

Éowyn was silent for a long time, so long that Anamaria did not think she would answer. Just as she was about to press her again, the Rohir finally whispered, "I have the same wishes as you, Anamaria. I also wish to fight and defend my people. But I have been sent here to tend to the children and prepare lodgings for the men after the battle," she ended bitterly.

Anamaria frowned. "I _suppose_ I can see their reasoning as to why I can't fight, this blasted leg," she frowned down upon her wound, "but you? You are a good fighter, I'd bet my old boat on it. I have heard you are called a shieldmaiden of Rohan, and that is not a title easily earned, I'd guess."

Éowyn gave her a wry smile. "Not many are called that, yes," she agreed, "but nevertheless, I have been sent here."

"By who?"

"The king," she said simply, "and the lord Aragorn did not help. I would stand by his side and fight, but he told me- he told me it was not in his power to command it." A flicker of a deep emotion passed across her face, an emotion that was soon replaced by the emotionless mask Anamaria saw her too often wear.

"Éowyn," started Anamaria, "there is something that you should know- I am sure Aragorn would not mind me for saying this, and I do believe you have the right to know. You know that pendant he always wears?" She nodded slowly. "That… it was given to him by his betrothed."

Éowyn paled and closed her eyes. There was a long silence between the two. "I suspected as much," she finally whispered. "But… I hoped it was not true."

"I'm sorry, Éowyn," Anamaria said with unusual gentleness.

Éowyn just nodded and a long, bitter silence fell between the two women.

O0O0O0O

"Aragorn."

The Ranger turned his head and saw Legolas and Gimli staring at him. "Yes?" he asked, turning back around and pulling some chain mail over his head.

"Have you looked to your wounds yet?"

"Yes, Legolas, I have," he replied without bothering to look at him. "But you should not worry. They are mere scratches."

"Do we need to remind you that you_ fell_ off a _cliff_ with a _warg_?" Gimli stressed.

"No, master dwarf, you need not to," Aragorn retorted, adjusting the chain mail and putting his leather tunic over it. He strapped on his belt, made sure his sword and knife were both easy to reach in their current positions, and turned to his friends, a small smile on his face. "Do not worry, I am well. After this battle I shall rest so long that even you will be content, master elf," he ended with a grin.

"I shall hold you to that, _adan_," retorted Legolas with a large smile.

"And I shall, too," added Gimli.

Aragorn was about to respond when a sudden, loud noise interrupted him: the sound of a horn. However, he was confused; he knew the sound of orc horns well and this was certainly no orc horn. Indeed, if he knew any better, he would swear that that was the sound of-

"Rivendell's horn?" Legolas asked, glancing at Aragorn quizzically. "Is that not the sound of Rivendell's call?"

"If I knew any better, I would say you were correct," the man replied with a frown. "But whoever it is, it is certainly no orc. Come." The three rushed out of the room and onto the walls.

On the way up, they met with Jack and Will, who were rushing to retrieve them.

"Elves!" Will exclaimed. "Elves are here!"

"What are their colors?" demanded Aragorn.

"Grey, or silver, or something like that," answered Jack with a light shrug. "They shall be here in the Keep in a few moments."

It was at that moment when a loud voice shouted, "Open the gate! Open the gate!"

They looked at each other before beginning a mad sprint towards the entrance of the Keep. When they arrived, they fell into an astounded silence.

Through the gates came streaming rows of armor-clad elves and a few darkly clad men. Keen eyes shone under their deep hoods, which only added to their already grim looks. They carried a large assortment of weaponry and they all rode upon great steeds that even the Rohirrim looked upon with approving glances. Leading this great company were two elves with dark hair and identical features and a man that bore some resemblance to Aragorn. The Rohirrim gathered looked upon the great company with both fascination and suspicion.

Aragorn soon reached the leaders of the group, great joy evident on his face. "Elladan! Elrohir! And Halbarad!"

Théoden appeared by Aragorn's side. "You know these folk?"

Aragorn nodded. "Aye, my lord. Elladan and Elrohir are the sons of Elrond and my brothers in all but blood, and Halbarad is a kinsman of mine. I have fought alongside all of them many a time and they are capable warriors." With that, he turned back to his foster brothers and kinsman. "What fortune has brought you here in our time of need?"

"The word of my lady Grandmother," said Elladan. "She saw that you would be in need, but as Lórien is handling its own battles, a few of us from Rivendell came to be of some aid. Halbarad here also heard the summons, and gathered as many men as could be found in a short amount of time."

"One or one thousand, any extra help is gladly received!" said Théoden. "How many do you bring?"

"Two hundred elves," said Elrohir this time, "and thirty of Aragorn's kinsmen, the Dúnedain."

The king nodded. "That is well. We shall place your men, my lords, across the Deeping Wall alongside our own archers, and your kinsmen, my lord Aragorn, shall be on the other side of the wall lest they break through."

"Very well," said Halbarad. "Do you have housing for our steeds? They have ridden long and hard with little rest. It was necessary in order to make it here in time."

"Of course," Théoden answered, and then called to a few of his men nearby to lead this newly arrived battalion to the large area that was kept specifically for the horses inside the refuge, and then to lead them to the wall. Théoden left to see to the final arrangements of the defenses.

As the army was led away, Elladan, Elrohir, and Halbarad lingered for a moment with Aragorn.

"We have brought you your steed, Roheryn," said Elrohir. "He follows after the others. And also we bring word from our father."

"But it shall be given to you at a more appropriate time," said Elladan. "The message is for when you are unsure of your path and fear to listen to your heart, but I look upon you now and see that such a time has not yet come, though I deem it will soon."

"Comforting words, brother," said Aragorn with a grim smile. "I can hardly await the day."

With a glance at one another, both of Elrond's sons gave Aragorn a mock bow and departed with the rest of the company, leaving Halbarad behind. "I have a gift for you from the Lady of Rivendell, my friend," said the Ranger. "She wrought it in secret, and long was the making. But she also sends words to you: _The days now are short. Either our hope cometh, or all hopes end. Therefore I send thee what I have made for thee. Fare well, Elfstone!_" And once he said this message, he indicated to his horse, where was connected to the saddle a tightly wrapped staff.

"I know what you bear," Aragorn replied. "But I beg of you to bear it for a while longer! When the time comes, it shall be unfolded." Halbarad merely nodded and turned to follow the others. The Heir of Isildur stared after his kinsman for a long moment before turning to face his companions.

Legolas, Gimli, Jack, and Will, who had watched this whole event unfold silently, were looking at Aragorn with open curiosity. Legolas, however, just smiled.

"What was that all about?" asked Jack.

Aragorn gave the man a small smile. "Nothing of importance, at least not at this moment. Now we should be preparing for battle, for they shall arrive soon."

Jack frowned and would have probably demanded a more straightforward answer if Will had not interrupted. "Since you have your own horse here, what will happen with Brego? I believe Théoden was quite willing to give it to you."

Aragorn frowned slightly and thought on the question. "Did not Anamaria lose her own steed in the warg battle? She can have Brego, if he will accept her."

"If there is any woman that can tame Brego, that would be Anamaria," said Gimli with a chuckle.

"If she doesn't scare him away first," muttered Jack under his breath.

O0O0O0O

Helm's Deep was silent as all light remaining in the sky finally departed and night took full cover. Sounds of distant thunder broke through the atmosphere and even a mortal could see the distant flashes of lightning; a storm would soon be upon them. About five hundred men and elves stood upon the Deeping Wall, bows strung and quivers full. Down below them were gathered about fifteen hundred men, including the few Dúnedain who had accompanied the elves, swords unsheathed and faces grim. Near two thousand other men were gathered all around the walls of the Hornburg, and with them stood their king. Up on the Deeping Wall stood Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Elladan, Elrohir, Jack, and Will. The sons of Elrond commanded the elves whilst Aragorn commanded the men. Down below was Halbarad, alongside a Rohir Marshall named Elfhelm. Théoden and Gamling commanded those of the Hornburg; alongside them would have stood Háma, if he were not brought down by a warg in the battle, and Éomer and Erkenbrand, if they were not away.

They stood silent as the sounds of orc drums, horns, and the pounding of feet reached even the ears of the mortal soldiers. Soon they could feel the pounding of thousands of iron-shod feet and even see the lights of their torches. In but a few moments the black mass approaching them took shape.

If one thought these Uruks were terrible in broad daylight, in the dark and fully armed they were terrifying. These creatures struck fear into the hearts of all gathered in Helm's Deep that night, and yet the men kept still and unbowed as the army of darkness approached.

Jack eyed the opposing army with ill-concealed disgust, and, though he would never admit it, a touch of fear. He was not afraid of death, but he really had no desire to die. And, of course, if all the men gathered here failed, then it would be neither just his death, nor even the death of the whole army, but the death of many innocent women and children, and for that he could not stand. It was interesting, he idly contemplated, how he added the deaths of others- of complete strangers- into his calculations. He did not do such a thing back in the Caribbean.

The man refused to continue down that complicated train of thought and concentrated rather on the scene before him. He focused on the creatures below him and, even as he attempted to retain his good humor, ended up scowling instead. Ten thousand bloodthirsty Uruk-hai- it simply could not get any worse for them than this.

When the first drop of rain fell, he utterly refused to believe that it was his fault.

The Uruk-hai stopped just beyond the distance a man's arrow could fly. Of course, they were not expecting a battalion of elves. So as they taunted and jeered all of the men gathered in the fortress, they were rather surprised by a volley of arrows sent off by an elvish command that fell upon them. After this first unexpected attack, the Uruk commander let out a howl of rage, blew a horn, and the army charged.

And thus the battle of Helm's Deep began.

* * *

adan: man.

A/N: There are some direct quotes here from Return of the King, 'Passing of the Grey Company'. Naturally Tolkien owns that text and I claim no ownership over it.


	27. The Battle of Helm’s Deep

Chapter 27: The Battle of Helm's Deep

In the pouring rain, the Uruk-hai charged forward with a roar that brought dismay to the hearts of all the defenders of Helm's Deep. Nevertheless, the elves and men upon the Deeping Wall sent volley after volley of arrows at the foul creatures until the enemy was close enough for the Rohirrim that stood upon the outer walls of the Keep to kill. Soon enough, the Uruk archers sent up their own volleys of arrows at the defenders, and here and there, a man or elf fell.

Jack, gun loaded, aimed into the sea of enemies before him. He had still some shot left and here was a perfect time to use it.

"Wait," said Will before he could fire. "Wait, Jack."

"Why should I?" asked the other man, finger still on the trigger.

"You don't have much shot left anymore; you should only use your pistol in the most dire situations," he responded. "The archers are doing well right now. Save it."

Jack thought it over for a moment and realized that the blacksmith had a fair point. He lowered his hand, and yet did not put away his weapon. Instead, he unsheathed his sword. "Looks like they have ladders," he said. "Get ready."

Gimli heard Jack's comment and a wild grin split across his face. "Good," he stated. "My axe yearns for the taste of orc blood."

Legolas, who overheard the whole conversation, sent down two more arrows before responding, "Worry not, Gimli. Your axe shall taste much orc blood before this night is over."

Meanwhile, Aragorn and the sons of Elrond commanded the elves and men upon the Deeping Wall to send volley after volley. Elladan cried, "_Leithio i philinn_!" as Aragorn in turn yelled, "Fire!" and both companies sent their arrows at the same time. The elves soon saw the ladders in the darkness, and alerted the company.

"_Pendraid_!" shouted Elrohir, and his twin followed with a "_Tangado a chadad_!" Another torrent of arrows fell onto Saruman's army.

"Ladders!" translated Aragorn to the Rohirrim. "Keep firing! Fire at will! Fire!" As the Rohirrim sent down more arrows at the enemy, Aragorn unsheathed Andúril; it was time for the blade to taste the blood of enemies once more. As dozens of ladders started to land upon the walls, the Ranger glanced at his friends and Elrond's sons, his foster brothers. Elladan and Elrohir also unsheathed their swords and their army followed suit. Jack and Will already had their blades ready and Aragorn saw that Jack held his pistol. That would be a useful surprise against their enemy. Legolas continued to shoot down the Uruk-hai minute by minute, and Gimli stood beside a ladder, ready to strike down the first enemy to come into his sight.

The Dúnadan spared a glance to down below and spotted his kinsman Halbarad, sword unsheathed. The other Ranger caught his eye and nodded, ready. Aragorn returned it and then focused once more upon the inevitable battle upon the walls. All of the Rohirrim archers, as planned, started retreating back as about half of the swordsmen from below, led by Halbarad, came up on the walls. Elfhelm stood with the rest of the waiting Rohirrim and they prepared for any battle that may come down to them.

The first Uruk-hai jumped off the ladders and onto the walls. Two of these Uruks had the misfortune of encountering Gimli's axe and quickly fell. The dwarf looked to Legolas, who was nearby, shooting at the monsters climbing the ladders. "Legolas! Two already!"

The elf spared his friend an amused glance. "I'm on seventeen!" he cried, and sent down two more arrows. "Correction: nineteen!"

Gimli growled as he slew another Uruk. "I shall have no pointy-ear outscoring me!" he cried, and immediately aimed for the head of another.

Jack and Will heard this exchange and glanced at each other. "I'm on three," said Will.

"Four," retorted Jack with a smug look.

Will spun around and gutted an Uruk that tried to sneak in upon him. "Four," he shot back with a grin and spun away into the battle.

The brethren Elladan and Elrohir fought side by side with the elves under their command. All the Uruk-hai that came upon this fearsome pair soon regretted it. They were merciless with all enemies they encountered, especially those of orc-kind; their mother was taken and tortured by orcs many years ago, and they had not yet forgotten it. All their anger for their mother's pain was taken out on the enemy with each stab, slash, and decapitation.

When the Uruk-hai first started jumping up onto the Deeping Wall, the Rangers had joined their chieftain on the top of the long rampart. Halbarad and his company were almost as formidable as the elves. Silent, fast, and deadly, they were not a force to be simply pushed aside; their enemies soon discovered that. However, both the Dúnedain and the elves were in unfamiliar settings, for they were used to working within forests, not within fortresses. Nevertheless, their addition to the defenders proved to be beneficial.

Halbarad slew yet another enemy and avoided a swipe for his head. He ducked and killed his attacker before bumping into an ally.

"Aragorn!" cried Halbarad over the sounds of steel and the dying. "They are becoming too many! We need to push down the ladders!"

"I know!" shouted his chieftain back. "Start telling others to push down the ladders! Try to get them off the walls!" With that, the two Dúnedain split up.

Jack, meanwhile, had a moment of respite, and it was here that he noticed that it had stopped pouring rain and all that remained was a light drizzle. Nevertheless, he was rather hot and beginning to sweat, and part of him wished that it would rain once more. The logical part of his mind reminded him that his sword would rust in heavy rain. He pushed both thoughts into the back of his head and focused on the battle in front of him.

Suddenly, he saw an elf in the middle of combat between two relentless Uruk-hai, and behind him snuck up another, ready to gut him while his back was turned. Thinking fast, Jack brought up his gun and fired.

An ear-splitting rumble cut through the air and both ally and enemy jumped and looked around for the source of the noise. The Uruk that was about to kill the elf from behind fell down, very much dead. Jack used this time of momentary bewilderment to kill a couple more of the enemy. Soon enough, everyone was back in the heat of battle.

The fighting continued steadily throughout the night and the bodies of elves, men, and Uruk-hai started to pile up on the walls. The rain had completely come to a stop, but it was still cloudy and the night was cold. No enemy had yet reached the Hornburg, yet all the archers upon its walls were hard pressed with the ever-advancing army. They were currently attempting to repel a group of Uruk-hai, protected with many shields, from climbing up the ramp. Unfortunately, most arrows shot in their direction could not penetrate the shield wall, and soon they were right at the front gate. It was here that the Uruk-hai removed their shields and revealed a great battering ram.

The king called out, "Brace the gate!" and the call was echoed several times as the Uruks brought down the battering ram to the wooden gates repeatedly. It soon proved to be that the ram would not be repelled soon, for though the Uruks that held the battering ram were shot down, they were being immediately replaced.

Meanwhile, at the Deeping Wall, Gimli stood upon the ledge of the wall between two ladders, where Uruks were climbing up in an endless rush. The dwarf gladly slew each and every one that tried to make it past him. With every kill, he called out his new score. "Seventeen! Eighteen! Nineteen! Twenty!" They soon learned not to underestimate him. Legolas himself had run out of arrows and was using his knives; he was silently counting aloud to himself, and those near him could hear a quiet, "Thirty-one, thirty-two…"

Close by were Jack and Will, back-to-back and in deadly combat with their enemies. These two made a formidable pair, and anyone that got too close Jack would simply shoot. On the other side of the Wall were Elladan and Elrohir who fought in perfect unison as only warriors who had fought long by each other's side could. No enemy made it past either twin alive.

Halbarad and the other Dúnedain fought alongside the other elves, mostly at the staircases that led either to the Hornburg or down behind the wall to the Deeping Stream. Even though behind the Deeping Wall awaited hundreds of men lead by Elfhelm to attack, they did not want any of their enemies coming beyond the Wall. Thus far, no Uruks had made it past the top of the Wall, and any that attempted to go beyond the stairs that led to the Deeping Stream were stopped by elves and the Dúnedain.

Aragorn ran from side to side of the Wall, knocking down ladders and killing any enemies that got in his way. Andúril gleamed brightly in the little torchlight that solely lit up the battlefield, for neither moon nor stars were out that night. Black and red blood stained Isildur's heir and yet he did not seem to heed it. He had a battle to win, and he was adamant to completing it with a victory.

Suddenly, out in the night shone a torch many times brighter than a normal torch, held aloft by an Uruk who ran towards the culvert. Aragorn spotted him quickly and immediately called over to Legolas nearby. "_Togo hon dad, Legolas! Dago hon_!" he yelled over to the elf, trusting his friend to hear the command over the sound of battle.

Legolas looked to Aragorn and then followed his gaze to the Uruk-hai with the torch. He immediately looked about for an arrow, as his were all spent, and found one in the body of, unfortunately, a dead Rohir man. With a word of regard, he took the Uruk arrow out of the body, nocked it, and let it fly.

It hit the Uruk near the neck, but it was not a killing blow. The creature staggered backwards and stumbled, but he regained his bearings quickly and continued to run to the culvert. Legolas found another arrow, this time on the ground, and let it fly right after the last. It hit the Uruk once more near the neck, but again, his shot was not a killing blow.

Legolas spotted Jack nearby and shouted out to the man, "See the Uruk with the torch? Shoot it down!" In case the pirate did not hear, he looked about for another arrow.

Jack did hear, however, and he quickly brought out his gun, aimed, and shot. However, seeing as the target was far, it was night, and Jack was no elf, his shot did not aim true and it hit the Uruk in the leg.

Though he limped and had two arrows sticking out of his shoulders, the creature did not let this slow him down and he dived into the drain, torch still in hand.

A sudden loud explosion hit the middle of the Deeping Wall, and chunks of stones alongside men, elves, and Uruk-hai flew into the air. Debris landed about all over the place, hitting unfortunate persons here and there. It did terrible damage on both sides, but the defenders of Helm's Deep would soon find that this sudden turn of events was more damaging to them, for when the dust and smoke cleared, it was seen that there was now a gaping hole in the Deeping Wall.

"Bloody hell," Jack muttered, looking at the large hole with a frown. He had just missed the blast; all the dust that covered him showed it. "It's like a dozen cannons were all set off at the same time, eh, Will?" he asked and looked around for the blacksmith. He was bothered and a little worried to see that he was not there. "Will?" he asked again, looking about the area within his eyesight. Finally, down on the ground inside of Helm's Deep, he spotted the young man lying on the ground, motionless. "Damn it all!" he cursed, and rushed towards the staircase.

Legolas, who had also avoided the blast, stood by Gimli; both were relatively clean and not much dust covered either of them. "Aragorn?" shouted out the elf, troubled when he could not find him on the wall.

"Aragorn!" mimicked Gimli, looking around for the Ranger as well. Soon both spotted him facedown on the ground inside of the Wall, unmoving.

"Aragorn!" Legolas shouted, and moved towards the stairs. Gimli, however, found a faster way to reach him.

With a dwarven battle cry, he jumped off the edge of the broken wall and landed on a group of Uruk-hai who were charging inside the Deep and in the direction of the unmoving Ranger. This surprised several of the creatures in the group and before they could get over their momentary bewilderment, Gimli brought up his axe and slew several of the Uruks before he was overwhelmed.

However, Elfhelm and his men soon came to his aid. With a loud battle cry, the Marshall led his men to the gap in the Wall to help hold the army back. Soon men and Uruk-hai were in the heat of battle in and around the gaping hole.

Meanwhile, Jack had finally reached Will and the man gently turned his young friend over. He was completely filthy and yet his flesh under the dirt was pale. Dried blood covered the side of his head and Jack could make out a long cut on the side of his face. He quickly checked for a pulse and, to his relief, he found that the blacksmith was still living, though his beat was erratic and faint. Slightly grunting, the pirate lifted Will over his shoulder and headed over to the Rear-gate of the Hornburg. Though most of the battle was closer to the Deeping Wall, he kept his gun at hand.

While Gimli distracted the Uruk-hai along with Elfhelm and his men, Legolas had reached Aragorn. Unlike Will, however, Aragorn was again consciousness and back on his feet, though slightly unsteady.

"Aragorn, are you well?" Legolas asked once he reached him.

"Well enough," responded the Ranger. "What happened?" Then he looked at the Wall and his face fell. "Devilry of Saruman! What treachery is this?"

"I know not," Legolas responded. "All I know is that it was a fell blow against us. The Wall is breached, and the Uruk-hai are slowly overwhelming us. We will not last if we stay here any longer."

Even as the elf said this, a group of Uruk-hai broke through the defenders and headed straight towards the pair. The two quickly fell into the fire of battle and slew all that came their way. Even so, that did not stop the flow of enemies that were breaking through Elfhelm's men.

Slowly, but surely, the Enemy was overcoming them.

0O0O0O0

Still the battle raged on through the night. Halbarad and the other Dúnedain had abandoned the stairs to help with the battles upon the ground. Upon the walls, the sons of Elrond and their men fought against all the Uruk-hai that were still using the ladders. Scattered on top of the Deeping Wall and around it were Rohirrim led by Aragorn and Elfhelm. Legolas and Gimli fought alongside them, still lost in their counting game.

Jack, however, was currently in the Hornburg with Will, who was still unconscious. He was laid alongside the other wounded men and elves in a room separated for those who needed such aid. There was nothing Jack could do except leave the young man to the healers and allow them to do their job.

As he rushed out of the sickroom and back into the Hornburg, he heard several horns and shouts, all calling for one thing: "Back to the Keep! Pull back to the gate! Pull back!" Jack grimaced and quickened his pace. They had lost the Deeping Wall.

Once he was outside, he headed over to the Rear-gate to help any defenders into the Keep and to hold back any of the enemy that sought entrance. Once there, he saw a large crowd rushing up the stairs and through the gate. To his dismay, the number that rushed up was far less than the number originally sent down there to fight.

It was here that he bumped into Aragorn and Gimli, as they were two of the last people to enter the Keep. However, he did not see Legolas enter.

"Where's Legolas?" he demanded.

"I am not sure," Aragorn said between breaths as the last soldiers poured in and the Rear-gate was shut. "I thought he was ahead."

"Well, I didn't see him," Jack said. "You sure you didn't leave 'im down there?"

"Of course not," Aragorn shot back, slightly annoyed. "He is probably with my brothers; they fled to the Keep by the stairs, and likely now defend that. But where is Will?"

"Healing quarters," Jack said. "He should be fine," he added when he noticed their looks. "He was breathing when I left 'im."

"Good," Gimli said shortly before he was interrupted by a loud thud; it was the sound of splintering wood. "Sounds like our aid is needed at the Main Gate. Come, friends!" With one last look at each other, the three rushed off towards the gate.

Once there, they found that the situation was indeed ill. The battering ram had broken through the wooden gate and Uruk-hai were currently shooting and spearing anyone they could reach. King Théoden himself was there, along with Gamling. They and the other Rohirrim did their best to keep the Uruks from gaining entry, but they were slowly and surely losing.

Suddenly a spear was thrust through the gaping hole in the gate and it hit Théoden in the left shoulder. He grunted in pain and when Gamling saw this, he immediately went over to his liege-lord and shouted for everyone around the king to make way. When the Rohirrim saw that their king was wounded, they shouted out in anger and redoubled their efforts to hold the gate.

Théoden spotted Aragorn, Jack, and Gimli. "Hold them!" he shouted out at the three. "Hold them back!"

"How long do you need?" Aragorn asked him as Jack rushed into the crowd of Rohirrim trying to hold the doors.

"As long as you can give me!" the king responded back, clutching his sword with his good arm.

Aragorn nodded and looked around at his surroundings. There had to be a way to get to the Uruk-hai and somehow surprise them. It was then that he saw a small passageway that led outside. He beckoned Gimli to come with him after he saw Jack busy trying to hold the gates. They quickly made their way through the passage and Aragorn slowly pushed open the door at the end. They were outside of the Keep.

Aragorn carefully glanced behind the corner and saw a good score of orcs trying to break the gate down. He looked at the distance between their ground and the bridge and noticed that it would be difficult for even him to make the jump; for Gimli it would be all but impossible.

"C'mon, we can take them!" Gimli encouraged the Ranger.

"It is a long way," Aragorn replied, nodding his head to the large gap.

Gimli peeked over, looked intensely at the gap, and then glanced back at the Ranger. "Toss me," he muttered.

Aragorn could hardly believe his ears. "What?"

Gimli grunted. "I cannot jump the distance so you have to toss me!"

Aragorn slowly nodded and prepared to throw the dwarf, but Gimli stopped him. "Don't tell the elf," he said to the Ranger in a voice that clearly stated 'If you do, I'll have your head.'

Aragorn shot him a hint of a smile. "Not a word," he promised, and before the dwarf could speak again, he grabbed him, tossed him over, and quickly followed.

To say that the Uruk-hai were surprised by their sudden arrival would be an understatement. They were in a momentary shock for a good couple of seconds before they sprung back into action. By that time, Aragorn and Gimli had already slain a fair amount of the foul creatures, and as they battled, they gave the people inside of the Keep time to close up the gaping hole in the doors.

"Shore up the doors!" ordered Théoden when they were given this moment of respite. Long pieces of wood were brought along with tools to cover up the gaping hole in the doors.

Jack watched as they worked and let his mind momentarily wander. He thought of Will and idly wondered if the young man had awoken yet, and if he was trying to escape the ward and get back into battle. Will was not one to stand around idly while others fought, that was for sure- just like Anamaria. Jack snorted softly at the thought of her. She was probably giving whoever was guarding her one hell of a time, he was sure. He, for one, was glad it was not him with her; she could be a royal pain when she wished to be.

He broke out of his thoughts when he saw an Uruk sneak up behind Aragorn and Gimli. He immediately brought his gun up and shot the beast in the head. The creature died immediately while everyone around him jumped at the noise. He simply put his gun down again and barked at the stunned men to keep moving.

The doors were nearly sealed again and they were just about to apply the last piece of wood. Before that, however, Théoden shouted out to the two defenders out on the bridge. "Gimli! Aragorn! Get out of there!" After he saw the Ranger nod, he moved away and the last piece of wood was brought up and hammered in.

Jack quickly realized that he was not needed at the entrance anymore, and that Aragorn and Gimli likely needed help getting back into the Keep. Figuring that leaving them out there would be a rather unfriendly thing to do, he mulled over his problem for about five seconds before an idea struck him. Quickly he turned to Gamling.

"Where can I find some rope?" he asked the Rohir.

"Down this hall and to the left, right by the stairs leading up," he replied, and with a curt nod, Jack took off. He easily found the rope, which was thick, long, and strong. Perfect. He gathered it up and then sprinted up the stairs.

It was then that he bumped into Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir. He quickly explained the situation and the four of them ran to the area above the gates, where some remaining archers shot down at advancing Uruk-hai while down below Aragorn and Gimli continued to fight the beasts with sword and axe.

The end of the rope was secured around a heavy boulder, and Legolas took the rest. "Aragorn!" he called out, and then let the rope fall down near the edge of the bridge.

Both Aragorn and Gimli jumped and managed to grab the dangling rope, and with the help of the elves, Jack, and a few Rohirrim, the two were pulled over the wall and back into the Keep.

O0O0O0O

In battle it is difficult to keep track of time, but it was a little after three hours past midnight on the fifth of March when the Uruk-hai began to overcome the elves and men. They brought out steel ladders that were thrice the size of their wooden ladders and could reach the height of the Keep's walls. Once these ladders were placed, they quickly flooded over the walls, killing everyone in sight and showing absolutely no signs of mercy.

The Deep itself was filled with Uruk-hai who were attempting to break through the Rear-gate and were slowly making progression in its destruction. The front gates were not doing well either, and the men that held them were becoming weary. At the rate the battle was going, everyone would be dead before dawn, and King Théoden saw this.

"Pull everybody back," he ordered Gamling. "Pull them back!" the king repeated when he did not respond immediately.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Gamling cried out to everyone. Jack, who was nearby, turned to him incredulously.

"Fall back?" Jack yelled at him.

"King's orders!" Gamling yelled back. "We stay out here much longer and all will be lost!" Jack shook his head, but did not argue further. A distraction such as argument could get him killed, and he had no desire to die from such a stupid distraction. As it was, he did not want to die trapped inside the Hornburg like some sort of caged animal, either. He would argue with the king later.

As the men and elves started retreating, a great rumble of splintering wood broke through the area and Théoden cried, "They have broken through; the castle is breached! Retreat! Retreat!"

"Fall back! Retreat! Retreat! Fall back! Fall back! Everyone inside! Retreat!"

Helm's Deep was taken.


	28. A New Day

Chapter 28: A New Day

The injured were rushed into the healing ward while dozens of men went to barricade the doors that led into the citadel. Whatever mortal and elf archers were left went to the balconies to shoot down upon the Uruk-hai while others set up defenses lest the enemy broke through the wooden doors.

Jack, Aragorn, Elrond's sons, and Halbarad went to the healing wards to see the damage done. Over one hundred soldiers lay there, the wounded being mostly Rohirrim, but a couple Dúnedain and a few elves were scattered about. The sons of Elrond and the Dúnedain went to aid the healers in any way they could while Jack went to see how Will was faring.

The young man was awake and he was sitting up, his hand on his bandaged head. He spotted Jack coming over and, albeit slowly and unsteadily, climbed to his feet.

"What happened?" Will demanded once Jack reached him.

"Wall blew up," Jack answered simply. "You flew with it, but, as you can see, survived. Glad, too; Elizabeth would've had my head." He sent Will a cheeky grin.

The young man frowned. "Blew up? How is that possible?"

Jack shrugged. "He's a wizard, and it smelled like gunpowder out there after you left, so he's a wizard with access to gunpowder, even though no one else in this blasted world has ever heard of it. If we ever stumble upon him, and if you ask nicely enough, he just may tell you his secret."

Will scowled, but did not retort and merely shook his head, immediately regretting it as it began to ache. "Never mind. What happened afterwards?"

"Uruks came in, drove us back, and the king ordered us to fall back." It was then that Jack frowned. "Speaking of which, I must have a word with him."

Will staggered after him, still dizzy from his wound. "Wait, wait, Jack- please don't do anything stupid."

Jack turned about and raised his brow. "Didn't I say something similar to you a while back?" Ignoring Will's look of confusion, he turned once more and left the healing ward.

Théoden prepared his men for the final charge. At dawn, one would blow the horn of Helm Hammerhand, and then they would make one last final stand against the thousands that waited outside. As he prepared, he noticed Jack exit the healing wards and head straight for him. The king glanced questioningly at the strange man.

"My lord," said Jack with a lavish bow that the king suspected was not meant earnestly. "I have an inquiry that has been bothering me for a while." Théoden, admittedly curious, bade him to continue. "Why," asked Jack with an exaggerated look of confusion, "did we retreat to an area where we are as good as dead? I don't know about you, mate, but I'd rather not die like a hen trapped in a coop with a few dozen foxes surrounding me, if you get my meaning, eh?" He cocked his head.

Théoden was silent as he studied the man. The king was rather sure the expression was simply masking his true feelings, though the Rohir still did not understand him. Indeed, had he not the word of his companions, he was not sure if he would ever trust him. As it was, Théoden settled in answering him with a grim smile. "It is not an obligation of mine to tell you my reasons for my actions, but to ease your mind, I shall. We shall not be caught in here like caged rats, I assure you. At dawn we ride out into the last battle and to our doom."

Jack looked thoughtfully at the king and slowly nodded. "All right then. That sounds cheerful." He suddenly grinned. "But I'm glad you've- what did you say- 'eased my mind'." With another over-exaggerated bow, Jack turned away and left the king of Rohan to his preparations.

0O0O0O0

The last of the defenders left the balconies of the Hornburg, for the Uruk-hai were too strong and too many to handle. Legolas was the last to leave, and as he ran down the stairs, he immediately bumped into Gimli. The dwarf looked expectantly at him.

"We cannot hold them any longer," said the elf to his unspoken question. "The men are tired and there are too many. They were sending their own arrows back at us and we dared not stay any longer lest one of us fell."

Gimli simply grunted. "Well then, elf, help us barricade the doors, or you can try and calm down those flea-ridden animals." He jabbed his thumb to the entrance of the inner stables in the caves, where all of the horses were being kept. In another, deeper section of the caves were the women and children.

Legolas, despite their situation, shot his friend an amused look and went to help prepare the horses for the last ride out. Gimli grunted again and went to help barricade the doors.

However, before he reached the main hall, King Théoden stopped him. "A moment, Master Gimli!

"What can I do for you, my lord?" said Gimli with a short bow.

"I understand that you do not prefer to ride on a horse into battle," said the king. Gimli simply nodded. "We cannot have you on foot, however- it is simply too dangerous." Gimli frowned, but before he could retort, the man continued. "However, there is something that you can do for me. As we ride out, I need you to sound Helm's horn. It shall cast fear into our enemies and it will give all the Riders hope for their last charge. Will you do it?" The dwarf was silent for a moment, but he soon nodded in acquiescence. "Good." Théoden pointed out the horn's location and gave the dwarf directions as to when he should blow it. Nodding, the dwarf bowed once again before the king and left to go to the horn.

A few minutes later, Legolas, some of the elves, and a few of the riders brought out the horses, fully tacked and prepared for battle. Jack, Will, and many of the Rohirrim stood near the doors, completely barricaded with all the furniture found within the hall. Aragorn, the sons of Elrond, and the Dúnedain stood silently as Théoden came forward.

"We are ready," said the king. "Go, Aragorn."

Aragorn nodded and he left the hall. Curious, Jack left the door and followed him.

The Ranger climbed up the stairs that led outside. He stepped upon the balcony and took a deep breath of the fresh air that was above the scent of battle and the wretched stench of the orcs. Soon enough, the Uruk-hai noticed him and sent a few arrows his way. They went astray, and when he did not respond to their threat, they stopped, as if they were curious. Aragorn then raised an empty hand, palm outward, as if to parley.

The Uruks began to laugh and jeer. "Come down! Come down!" they cried to him. "Come down if you wish to speak to us,_ tark_! Bring out your king!"

"The king stays or comes at his own will," said Aragorn.

"Then what are you doing here?" one called out at him.

"Do you wish to see the greatness of our army?" said another, and they laughed.

"I look to see the dawn," he simply replied.

"And a beautiful dawn, is it not?" said a voice behind him. Aragorn did not turn, but a small smile crept to his lips as Jack joined him on the balcony. He looked upon the masses of the enemy in indifference.

The Uruk-hai growled at them, angry. "Get down or we will shoot you from the wall," said one of the captains of the Uruks. "This is no parley. You have nothing to say."

"Parley?" Jack muttered. "If we are discussing a parley, you should have brought me. I know everything about parleying."

"I shall remember that for the future," muttered Aragorn back. Raising his voice, he said, "I have still this to say: no enemy has yet taken the Hornburg. Depart, or not one of you will be spared. Not one will be left alive to take back tidings to the North. You do not know your peril."

The Uruk-hai simply laughed at that and sent a hail of arrows towards them. Easily avoiding them, the Ranger and the captain ducked out of the balcony and back into the keep.

"You definitely need some lessons in parleying," commented Jack idly as they ran down the stairs.

Aragorn laughed, but did not respond to that. He simply said, "To your horse, Jack. We ride out now."

They came to the main hall, where the doors were nearly broken through. Already several men of Rohan, many of the Dúnedain, and a few elves sat astride their steeds. At the front of the company sat Théoden, with Gamling and Elfhelm on either side. Near the front of this great company gathered within the large front hall of the Hornburg stood Nithhad and Roheryn, their own mounts. The two men quickly climbed upon their horses and they watched as the Uruks' axes and swords splintered through the wood.

"Fell deeds awake," said the king quietly, as if to himself. He then raised his voice and slightly turned his horse, Snowmane, to face the company. "Now for wrath, now for ruin, and the red dawn!"

With that, the doors were finally shattered and the first Uruk-hai started to enter the Hornburg.

"Forth _Eorlingas_!" cried the King, and the shout was repeated by the men of Rohan. As the shout went throughout the Hornburg, Gimli blew Helm's horn and its great call was heard throughout the Keep.

As the orcs covered their ears and cowered before the horn's blasts, the company of riders rode through the broken doors of the Hornburg and into the Keep.

"Forth_ Eorlingas_!" shouted Jack, shooting a particularly nasty-looking Uruk right in the face. "Whatever that means," he added as an afterthought, shooting another one of the fell beasts right between the eyes.

The company rode through the Keep and onto the causeway, killing all of the Uruk-hai who did not get out of their way in time. Many fell or jumped off the ramp to their death, while others tried to fight back, but ended up being impaled by horses' hooves or a sword instead.

Théoden looked grimly upon the rest of the Uruk-hai. Their own company was nothing compared to the amount of orcs still left, and in his heart, he knew he would die to these creatures. However, he would die fighting for his people and his country.

Even as these grim thoughts settled in his mind, another horn blast rang through the valley, but it was not from the Hornburg. A glistening, white rider stood upon a ridge high above them and with him were two men upon their steeds.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir has returned!" cried Legolas.

"Éomer! Erkenbrand!" shouted the Rohirrim. "They have come!"

And as the new day dawned, Gandalf, Éomer, and Erkenbrand led two thousand men into the valley, ultimately turning the tide of battle. The determination of the company from the Hornburg became even fiercer as the reinforcements arrived, and they pressed against their enemy even further.

Seeing these new, angry Rohirrim led by one who shone with sunlight brought fear and dread to the Uruk-hai and the most cowardly started to retreat. However, they found their way blocked by a forest of dark, towering trees- trees that were not there the evening before. Throwing away any caution they may have had, the Uruks ran into the trees, choosing rather to brave the strange forest than to face the angry and numerous Rohirrim. As the minutes passed, more and more turned and fled into the trees.

"Nay! Do not follow them!" cried Éomer to the few men who sought to pursue them. "Keep away from the trees!"

"What in the world...?" Jack trailed off, looking at the newly appeared forest in deep fascination. "Where in the world did those trees come from? They are not..." He turned to Legolas. "These aren't your walking, talking trees, are they?"

Legolas looked dazed and did not answer his question right away. When he was about to repeat it, the elf finally said, "They are Onodrim... Ents, as many call them now... but not truly Ents. They are like to what we saw in Fangorn, only much angrier. I do not know what they are called, though."

"Well, that's bloody fantastic," Jack replied. "I'm just glad that the Uruks went in there first. Nasty things, those walking trees are."

"Do not speak ill of what you do not understand," said Legolas softly, but firmly. Jack shot him an irritated glare, but the elf ignored it and instead rode over to where the Aragorn and the others were. Sighing and rolling his eyes, he bid Nithhad to follow.

"Well met, Éomer and Erkenbrand!" said Théoden to the two captains. "And Gandalf the White, well met indeed! You do have impeccable timing, and you are indeed mighty in wizardry."

"Am I?" said Gandalf, and followed his glance to the woods. "The trees? They are no design of my own, but of a far greater power beyond the counsel of the wise. Better than my design, and better than anything I could have ever hoped.

"But come! What are the brethren Elladan and Elrohir and the Dúnedain doing here at Helm's Deep?" he asked, turning to the Elrond's sons and Halbarad, who was with them.

"We were sent by my father, to help turn the tide of battle," said Elladan. "Two hundred elves we brought, and thirty Rangers, and we arrived yester eve."

"And all for the best," said Gandalf, looking upon Helm's Deep with scrutiny. "Your presence may indeed have turned the tide of battle. How many of your number was lost?"

"We do not yet know," said Elrohir. "We have yet to account for the dead and were preparing to be among their number just before you arrived."

"Come then," said Gandalf. "Let us heal our wounds and then prepare for the next stage. There is still much to be done."

0O0O0O0

In the end, it was found that a little over one third of the defenders at Helm's Deep were slain during the battle overnight. Hundreds upon hundreds of bodies were strewn upon the ramparts and behind the Deeping Wall. The elves lost over half of their company, for they were the first defense against the wave of Uruk-hai and did not retreat until necessary. The Dúnedain lost only a couple of their number, but each loss was counted as a heavy one. The elves and the Dúnedain that died during the battle were buried in separate mounds by their own kin outside of the Wall. The remaining elves, once they were rested and healed, would take their leave and bring tidings back to Elrond. As for the Dúnedain and the sons of Elrond, they stayed and were to aid Aragorn and his companions until the war ended, whether it ended for good or ill.

Éomer and Erkenbrand brought with them over two thousand men. Many of them were from the Fords of Isen, where they had been fighting for many days, but more were from homesteads and wandering companies that they passed along the way. Those of this company who had the swiftest horses were sent to villages and towns all over Rohan to report the victory at Helm's Deep. Each village was to send their men, young and old, to Dunharrow, where the men of Rohan would gather in preparation for one of the largest battles the world has ever seen.

Jack Sparrow watched from a distance as all able-bodied men- including a few of the elves and Dúnedain- started to separate the fallen Rohirrim from the Uruk-hai. While his face was blank to any who passed by, he did mourn for the loss of so much life in his own way. Now, he never cared as much for numbers of strangers before; most of the strangers he encountered were cruel, idiotic, selfish fools. However, he hardly ever encountered strangers in the Caribbean like those in Middle-earth. These men were generally good men and selflessly died for their country. While he was bound to no man or country, he still had to respect that, and he mourned for Rohan's loss.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Jack made his way back through the Hornburg to the healing ward, where he saw Will helping a wounded Dúnadan drink some water. While he saw his friend's hands were a bit unsteady, he was still looking much better. He was sure that, given a bit more time, the former blacksmith would be as healthy as ever once more.

He glanced a few feet away, where Elladan and Elrohir tended a few badly wounded elves. The healers of Rohan had done all that they could for the elves, but the sons of Elrond were wise in the healing arts- at least, so he had heard from others- and so he supposed that those they tended would live.

Further off he could see Aragorn, who was stitching up a wound on a very young man- younger than Will, to be certain. His eyes passed over a few other volunteers that he did not know, but suddenly came upon two faces that he recognized.

Freda and Éothain were with an older woman and a wounded man; his leg was wrapped in layers of bandages, but he looked content and chuckled at something that young Freda said. Jack could see the family resemblance between the four of them and he realized that the two children had found their parents. The thought comforted him; he had grown to like the two on their short trip to Helm's Deep and they were certainly the best-behaved children he had ever come upon in his day, and not at all like the thieving, bratty children he was used to.

The young girl suddenly caught sight of him, and before he could make his escape, she stood and came over to him. "Jack! Papa says we won the battle!"

"That we did, love, that we did," he said. He noticed that her older brother was speaking quickly to his parents, and while Freda prattled on about nonsensical, childish things, the woman walked over to them.

"Freda, you should not be disturbing Lord Jack," the woman said. "Go back to your father and Éothain." Jack could not help but wince. Was it so hard to understand that he was a _captain_? Lords, after all, were associated with government, and he was far away from any sort of government-type figure.

"I am not disturbing him- am I?" she asked, turning her head from her mother to Jack.

"No, but you, eh, better listen to your mum," he said with a slight shrug. Freda nodded and went back to join her father and brother.

Once she was gone, the woman curtseyed awkwardly to him. "Éothain told me all that you did for him and Freda. You have my and my husband's deepest gratitude, my lord."

Jack shook his head. "Just 'captain', please. _Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

The woman looked puzzled, but nodded. "Captain Jack Sparrow, then, you have my thanks for watching over my children."

He only shrugged. "It was, eh, nothing. Good kids."

She nodded once more, and when it seemed he had nothing else to say, she looked back to her family. "If you will excuse me, captain, but I will go back to my family now."

"Of course, of course," he said, waving her off. "I have other... err... business to see to, anyways."

As she left him, he quickly left the healing ward and walked down a few halls and a couple of flights of stairs to where he knew the balcony was. There was no one else there. He went to the railing and gazed out upon the people picking up the fallen and moving them to different mounds, and then looked further to the strange forest that was just on the keep's doorstep. Further, beyond the trees, he could make out fields of grass swaying gently in the wind. It reminded him of the sea.

He missed the open water; it had been so long since he had last sailed. Months and months of wandering on land with no ocean in sight was starting to wear down on him. The trip on the Anduin had been but a brief taste of what he really wanted. All he needed was a boat, a crew, and miles upon miles of glistening blue water with a bright sun shining high above him. That was all he needed.

Captain Jack Sparrow sighed. By the looks of things, this skirmish at Helm's Deep was just the beginning, and at this rate, he would not see the ocean again for a long time. After all, there was a war to be fought and won.

And while he was not usually one to look for fights, this war the captain had absolutely no plans to miss. After all, he could hardly sail the seas without touching land here and there, and he could never come to land if it was ruled by man-hating orcs. So first, the war had to be fought and won.

But after that, after that he would return home.


	29. Return of the King: Discussions

A/N: And here's Return of the King.

By following both book and movie-verse along with my own elements, I screwed up the timeline a little bit by pushing everything back a day. I should have everything back on course by Chapter 32 by just making the Dúnedain horses very fast and durable. They also will not be stopping at Edoras, which will help with time a bit.

Since there are so many characters, I try to get everyone in at least once in a chapter. Naturally, however, I cannot get in everyone as much as everyone would like, so I'll try and balance it out as we move along. And, well, naturally, my favorite characters may sometimes appear more than others *whistles* I do try though.

* * *

Chapter 29: Discussions

"There is still much to be done," said Gandalf to the gathered company before him.

It was still morning, but a couple hours after the end of the battle for Helm's Deep, and within a small meeting room in the Hornburg there were many of the leaders of the Free Peoples. From Rohan were the King Théoden, his nephew Éomer, and his niece Éowyn. From the elves were the sons of Elrond of Rivendell and Legolas of Mirkwood. Representing the dwarves was Gimli, son of Glóin. From the Dúnedain were Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Halbarad, his kinsman. And finally, there was Captain Jack Sparrow, his crewmate Anamaria, and William Turner- none of them really represented any part of Middle-earth, but at this point of time it would be impossible to exclude them from a meeting of any sort. After all, Jack would protest until he was admitted to receive as much information as he could, and once he was in, the other two would insist on being present. Besides, all three of them have proved to be useful when it came to helping the cause against the Enemy- at least, most of the time.

These twelve people were gathered closely around a map spread across the table in the center of the room. Gandalf continued speaking as he pointed to a location north of Helm's Deep. "While we have managed to defeat Saruman's army, I must still deal with Saruman himself at Isengard. You may come with me, if you wish to," he said, glancing at the others in the room.

"I do not wish to be parted from you so soon, Gandalf," replied the king, "and Saruman has dealt me injuries that I would mend."

"I, as well, will come," said Aragorn. "I hope that near Isengard we shall hear of our friends, and what has become of them." Will instantly looked up at this; every day he thought about Elizabeth and wondered if she was well. He worried about her day and night, no matter what reassurances Gandalf gave him. He would not cease to fear for her until he saw her again.

"Do not worry about them too much; I am sure they have fared much better than you have," Gandalf responded, his eyes moving from Aragorn to Will. "I imagine that you all wish to see your friends again, and coming with me to Isengard may be the best way to do it." He then turned to Elladan and Elrohir. "What of the remaining elves? What is their path?"

"They shall be a part of our company until we reach the Fords of Isen," said Elladan. "From there they shall make their way to Rivendell and report to my father on what has happened here."

"We, however, shall stay and give whatever aid we can," said Elrohir.

Gandalf nodded in satisfaction before looking at Aragorn and Halbarad. "And what of the Dúnedain? What is their path?"

Halbarad glanced at his chieftain, and at his slight nod, spoke. "We have no plans to return to the North until the War is over. We shall stay in the South, prepared to go wherever our chieftain leads us."

Gandalf nodded once more and then glanced again at the map. "Once my business within Isengard is finished, we shall make our way to Dunharrow, where King Théoden is mustering an army. From there we shall ride to Gondor."

Théoden nodded in agreement. "That is what I plan. All the errand riders know to send all able-bodied men to Dunharrow, and, if all goes according to plan, all available forces should be mustered by the time we make it there. I hope to depart for Gondor in less than a week. However, the refuges need to be brought back to Edoras." He then turned to Éowyn. "I need you to lead the refugees from Helm's Deep today, and you should make it to Edoras tomorrow in good time. From there, you may watch over the preparations made at Dunharrow before I return." Éowyn's mouth thinned in dissatisfaction, but she did not argue with him and simply nodded.

"How many will you bring, Théoden King?" asked Gandalf.

"Éomer and a score of my most able-bodied men will ride with me. The rest of the men will go straight to Dunharrow on the morrow. I will have some go with the refugees to Edoras, and the rest shall stay here, including those too wounded to be moved today."

"Very well, then," Gandalf said, and he turned to Aragorn. "Will the Dúnedain be accompanying us?"

"I would have Halbarad with us, but the rest shall stay here and give whatever aid they can in the recovery efforts until we return," he said.

Gandalf nodded. "All right, I believe now everything is all settled. Everyone should rest and prepare to leave later this afternoon."

One by one, they started filing out of the room. Before Will and Anamaria could leave, however, Aragorn called to them. "Will, Anamaria, I would speak with you two for a moment." The two of them stayed behind and soon enough they, along with Jack and Halbarad, were the only ones left in the room.

"I shall speak with you at a later time, Halbarad," said Aragorn. "In the meanwhile, please tell the men what shall be happening these next few days." Halbarad nodded and, shooting an odd glance towards the other three, left the room. Aragorn raised an eyebrow at Jack; Jack simply raised an eyebrow back and casually shut the door behind Halbarad. Sighing in acceptance, the Ranger turned to Anamaria and Will.

"I do not think you two should accompany us to Isengard," he said bluntly.

Will was the first to turn his shock into anger. "Not go to Isengard? Why not?"

"You are wounded and should not be traveling just yet," he said. "I say this not only as a friend, but as a healer."

"You would deny me seeing my wife?" Will spat, ignoring the slight throbbing in his head. "You would deny me the chance to see her after so many days and through so many perils?"

"I don't know why you're worried about me. I'm fine. I can still fight perfectly well and I am nearly to the point that I can walk without this," Anamaria interrupted, indicating to a makeshift crutch that was given to her but a few hours ago. "And as we'll be riding, it won't be any problem, now, will it?" She glared darkly at the Ranger, as if daring him to contradict her.

He stared at them evenly. "Will, you were knocked out and severely injured during the battle last night, and should be resting for at least a couple more days. Anamaria, you are in no condition to go riding with that leg."

Before either of them could argue further, Jack butted into the conversation. "Not to be against you, mate, but you did knock yourself out as well," he pointed out. "And you did that after you came back from the dead." The pirate was particularly pleased with himself when he saw that Aragorn had no immediate comeback against his irrefutable logic.

Seeing that he had their attention, Jack continued. "Now, here is what I propose. We let Will and Anamaria tag along. However, if they just so happen as to fall behind, we simply leave them behind. I know you don't know much about our world, mate, but we happen to have a Code that calls for such an action in that type of situation, and that Code happens to be very useful in situations like this, and this is a time in which it should be followed. Will and Anamaria will be constantly trying to prove to everyone that they are well enough to ride with us. If they are, they get what they want and prove you wrong. If they aren't, they have no choice but to turn back once they fall behind- otherwise they might get eaten by those hideous trees out there. And with that, you win. Will and Anamaria will have the chance to prove themselves able, and you will have the chance to mock them once they fail. If they don't, you'll be happy that they are well. So it works out for everyone! What do you think of that, eh?"

Aragorn shot Jack a look muddled in between bemusement, amusement, and complete disbelief. However, Will and Anamaria immediately jumped onto his suggestion.

"You have a deal," Will said, quickly grabbing Jack's hand and shaking it. Anamaria followed suit, and before Aragorn could react, they left the room.

Jack watched them leave, and then turned back to the Ranger. He took off his hat and with an exaggerated, lavish bow, he said, "I am glad I could be of assistance, Your Majesty." With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Aragorn wondering where in the world he went wrong.

O0O0O0O

Will was waiting for Jack at the end of the hallway. "Thanks for that," he said in greeting.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "For what? Me convincing Aragorn to let you come? I'm not quite so sure you should be thanking me just yet; I'm betting on you falling behind and being eaten by those trees." Will raised his brow, and Jack simply smirked. "Now, where did Anamaria limp off to?"

"She's going to her room to rest, as we should," said Will. "You did not get any sleep last night and we have a long way to ride."

"A bit hard to sleep with a war raging about you," the other man pointed out. "And you need more rest than I; you hit your head rather hard, you know."

"Which is why I suggested it," Will reminded him.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Fine. But before we do, there is one thing that I must see to. Do you know where Legolas and Gimli may be?"

"No idea."

"Great. Let's go find them."

It did not take long to find the two- they were just outside of the Hornburg, leaning against one of the walls that looked out towards the East. Jack shuddered at all of the trees that were still gathered there. Near the trees, he saw a large pile of Uruk bodies that was still being added to by many men, and on each side of the stream, he saw two mounds with fallen Rohirrim. Closer to the trees, but far away from the Uruk corpses were also the mounds of the fallen elves and Dúnedain.

He turned his attention back to the elf and dwarf, who were currently in a deep discussion. He quickly found out that Gimli was talking about the caves that he had stumbled upon, while Legolas listened in what could only be described as a very, very mild interest.

"-you have not seen a sight anywhere else in the world! Oh, the Caverns of Helm's Deep is truly among the most beauteous sights of Middle-earth! I-"

"Truly sorry to interrupt this fascinating conversation," Jack stepped right in front of Legolas and gave the dwarf a large smile. From behind Gimli, Will thought he saw a look of relief flash across the elf's face, but before he could be certain, it was gone. Gimli stopped mid-sentence and gave Jack an annoyed, but somewhat curious look. "Sorry to interrupt," Jack repeated, "but I have a most important question that I must have an answer to."

"How can we be of assistance?" Legolas asked, jumping on the new topic as fast as possible. Will turned his glance away from the elf so he would not burst out laughing.

"Well," Jack said, leaning against the wall in a casual manner, "neither of you ever did tell me who won that Uruk-slaying competition last night."

Legolas' brightened face slightly fell, and Gimli burst out laughing. "Who do you think won?" asked the dwarf. "While the elf had a large advantage at the beginning, I managed to catch up with him and overcome his number! While he had an impressive forty-one, I still proved to be the victor with forty-two." He laughed again, and Legolas simply gave him a short bow in acknowledgement of his victory.

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Impressive. However, I'm afraid neither of you were close to me. I ended that battle with one hundred and twenty-seven, myself," he said casually, inspecting his fingers with mild interest and missing the looks of complete skepticism from the other three.

"That's about as likely as you coming to like those trees down there," Will said, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to contradict his statement.

Jack simply shrugged. "I may have skipped a couple of numbers, but it's around there, I'm sure. Besides, how many did you get? Ten?" Will's other eyebrow rose and he gave the pirate a glowering look. Before he could respond, however, Jack gave an exaggerated yawn. "Well, now, I'm beat. I haven't slept at all. So I'm going to sleep. I'll see you gents later." With that, he quickly spun around and walked away, leaving his companions momentarily speechless.

"Was he being serious?" Legolas asked.

"You know, I've known Jack for a while now, and I still have absolutely no idea when he is being serious and when he is fooling around." Will shrugged. "One grows used to it."

Legolas nodded. "One does, indeed. But he was right to seek rest- you should as well, Will, as should we." Gimli nodded in agreement, and Will sighed.

"Yes, yes, I know. I shall go and rest, then. Until later, my friends." Legolas and Gimli nodded their heads in farewell, and Will went to his room to rest his slightly pounding head and wait for their next journey.

O0O0O0O

Halbarad was waiting in his room when he finally returned to rest. Aragorn looked up in surprise at his kinsman. "Halbarad. Do you have need of something?"

"I would have my curiosity satisfied, cousin," he started ambiguously.

"What do you wish to know?" Aragorn sat on his bed and pulled off his boots as he prepared to rest for a while.

"Who were those three that joined us in the council room? They are obviously well known to you, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, and the Rohirrim, and even your foster brothers seem to recognize them. They are not known by any of our kin, however, and they all bear an odd air about them."

Aragorn massaged his forehead as he tried to figure out how to explain them to Halbarad. He decided that the truth would be best. "They, along with two others, arrived with the hobbits in Bree back in October. I was not expecting them, and remained suspicious of them for a while, but it soon proved that while they remained highly suspicious of me, they were fiercely loyal to the hobbits. We traveled together to Rivendell, where Gandalf preached for them."

"I understand that the hobbits were on some mission of importance," started Halbarad slowly, "and that you, along with others, went with them to aid them. I assume then that these three, along with the other two, went with you?"

"Yes. Unfortunately two of our Company fell at Amon Hen, and another three- including two of the hobbits- were captured by the Uruk-hai."

"And the other two hobbits?"

"They went on to complete their quest, whilst the rest of us that lived went to pursue those who were captured. It was a difficult decision."

"I see." Halbarad fell silent as he mulled this information over. "Nonetheless, how did these strangers end up with the hobbits in the first place? There are no Men in the Shire."

"This is the strange part," Aragorn started, and explained that they were from a different world. He told his cousin the same story he was told by Gandalf and the hobbits so long ago in Rivendell, and explained it to the best of his ability. When he was finished, Halbarad was raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"If it were not you telling me this, I would think this story plain madness," he said. "Nonetheless, I trust you and Gandalf, and believe you. Still, I would have thought such a thing impossible."

"As did I," Aragorn said, "yet the Valar and their workings are beyond mortal perception."

"Of course," said Halbarad. "Thank you for the explanation; the story is unbelievable."

"If anything, it may explain some unusual actions on their part," Aragorn said with a grin. "They are an odd, but noble group."

"So I have already seen. I will now leave you to rest. Until later, cousin."

"Wait," Aragorn said suddenly before Halbarad opened the door to leave. "How is she?"

Halbarad gave him a small smile. "She misses you dearly, but feels that the day you and her will be together is close. A hopeful thought, surely."

"Quite," Aragorn said, fingering the Evenstar pendant. "Rest well, Halbarad."

"And you, Aragorn."

O0O0O0O

"Éowyn."

The woman turned around and glanced scornfully at her brother. "Éomer. It is impolite to barge in without a knock."

"Of course, dear sister," he said with a smile as he closed the door. "It shan't happen again." She just shook her head as she went through the tangles of her hair with a comb. "Should you not be resting?"

"I already did. I am restless now, and I'll be seeing to the preparation of the refugees soon."

The young man heard the bite in his sister's voice and frowned. "You cannot still be angry that you will not be accompanying us to Isengard."

"No, no," she said with a sigh. "I understand that my duty is to the people, and that they need me here."

"Then what ails you?" he asked, sitting down beside her. "You have been in a foul mood ever since I came here."

"I cannot expect you to understand, brother," she said coldly as she tugged once more at her hair. She tugged too hard and brought a clump of hair away as she pulled out the comb.

"Here," he said, taking the comb away from her and starting on her hair himself. "You are worse than my horse." Éowyn frowned, but did not protest as he gently started working the knots away from her hair. "I have seen the looks you pass Lord Aragorn's way," he started without preamble.

She stiffened at the comment, but did not respond to the hidden question. Undaunted by her silence, he continued. "He is an honorable man, and I know the love you bear for him-"

"Say no more," she cried, standing up suddenly and facing Éomer with a cold glare. "I bear no love for him, no more, for his heart belongs to another and I cannot take that away from him."

"That is unfortunate," Éomer said, pity for his sister filling in his eyes. Éowyn saw the pity and her lips thinned.

"I would have you not look at me in such a way, brother. If you would excuse me, I have my duties to attend to." Without another word, she pushed past him and left the room.

O0O0O0O

In the early afternoon, once all arrangements had been made and the weary warriors were rested, a large company made their way to a wide path suddenly formed in the great forest outside of Helm's Deep.

"The Huorns know of our purpose, and will let us pass unharmed," Gandalf said to Théoden at the entrance of the wood. "The number of elves that pass with us shall ensure our safety."

"Though the elves remain strange to me, their presence was much welcome in the fight. You are sure they are not willing to stay for the final battles?" The king turned now to Elladan, who was nearby.

"We came by chance as early as we did; the number we lost is great, however, and my father must be informed," responded Elladan. "They came willingly to aid the Second-born, and my brother and I cannot ask more of them."

"We, however, will stay with Aragorn and the Dúnedain, and do what little we can to aid them in the fight against Mordor," Elrohir added. Théoden nodded in acceptance, and with Gandalf and Éomer beside him, was the first to enter the eerie wood. The Rohirrim entered next, followed by the elves of Rivendell. In the rearguard lingered Aragorn and the Halbarad as well as the remainder of the Fellowship.

"Go on, Aragorn, I do believe Jack may take some time in following," Will said with a grin. The Ranger shot Jack a look, and after exchanging a glance with Halbarad, they trotted forward to the center of the group where Elrond's sons were.

"I don't like this," Jack muttered as he encouraged Nithhad forward. The horse was reluctant to move, and only did so after a few impatient kicks. "See? This animal has more sense than the lot of you!"

Legolas laughed lightly. "The woods are restless and are ill at ease, yet I do not sense any malice in them- at least, not towards us."

"I'm with you, lad," Gimli muttered to Jack over the elf's light-hearted remark. "It's unnatural, and it chills me to the bone."

Will rolled his eyes and moved Wistan forward. "You will fall behind if you do not decide to come now, though!" With that, he trotted forward to the rest of the group. The elf soon followed, Gimli mumbling darkly behind him.

Jack sighed and turned to his crewmate. "Well then, love, suppose we should be off."

"Aye, let's to it, then," she said with a grin. He rolled his eyes and, with a deep, exaggerated breath, plunged into the forest.

Anamaria took one last look at Helm's Deep. Beyond the gaping wall, the piles of bodies, and the amount of work already done, she saw Éowyn standing on what was left of the wall of the Deep, gazing at the fading company with an unreadable look. Feeling a little sorry for the Rohirric woman, she turned around and urged Brego forward into the wood. Moments later, the path behind her closed.


	30. Isengard

Chapter 30: Isengard

The afternoon wore on as the company made their way through the Huorns, as Gandalf named them, with the wizard and Théoden at the head of the group. While the mortals of the host seemed ill at ease on the path, many of the elves led their steeds closer to the trees, here and there lingering and listening to the wood. Legolas would have joined them if Gimli had permitted him.

"Leave them!" Gimli said when Legolas looked longingly at the branches above his head. "This is an unnatural wood and likely has dark thoughts."

"Dark, yes, but not towards us," said Legolas. "They hate the orcs and will not harm our company. Indeed, I imagine that the trees rejoice with the presence of so many of the Eldar."

"Bah," said Jack, who rode nearby. "I agree with the dwarf. They're evil, and I wish they would go back to wherever they came from."

"Mortals," Legolas only said with a small shake of his head. "No matter what you say, I still would enjoy walking among these trees."

"You may think them wonderful," started Gimli, "but I tell you, friend elf, if you had seen the depths of the caves at Helm's Deep you would be singing a different tune! I wish I had more time to go through them; their beauty is rare, and all dwarves would pay gold just to catch a glimpse of what I found! When the torches are kindled, the gems and crystals glisten and veins of precious ore are…"

As Gimli continued with his praise for the caverns, Legolas listened politely while Jack, Will, and Anamaria shared one look and quickly rode up to join Aragorn and his kinsman Halbarad.

"So eager are you to leave this wood?" Aragorn jested as he saw the three of them approach hurriedly.

"Say rather eager to be out of hearing of Gimli's voice, and away from hearing about his fascination with rocks," Will said.

Aragorn laughed. "You have been in his company long, and have seen Moria; surely you understand that stone is the specialty of the dwarves?"

"Specialty, sure, but one I have no interest in," Anamaria said, rolling her eyes.

"His love for the caves of Helm's Deep is unnatural," Jack said pointedly.

"Just as unnatural as your love for rum," Will rebutted, "or have you already forgotten that near-disaster with that rum you made a few days ago?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Jack replied, wide-eyed. "I would think you were trying to blame me for something of not my doing! How could you?"

As Will rebutted his statement, Halbarad shot his cousin a look. "_Are they always like this?_" he asked him incredulously in Sindarin.

"_I did mention that they were rather queer_," Aragorn pointed out in the same language.

"No, no, no," Jack was now saying. "You're a wretch, making up such lies. I was completely sober that night, and only had a small bit of drink."

"Doubt it," Anamaria muttered under her breath.

"Are you calling me a liar, love?" Jack asked with an unusually light voice.

"Oh no, Captain, not at all. I just don't believe a word you say, is all." She ignored his look, continuing to ride as if she did not have a care in the world.

"_Very queer_," Halbarad muttered back in Sindarin once more. Aragorn only smiled.

O0O0O0O

It was nearing dusk when the trees finally came to an end. They had made a path for many leagues, the whole time the trail heading northwest towards Isengard. It finally ended at the Fords of Isen, a shallow crossing of a river that was usually wide and bubbling merrily through the plains. Now, however, they found it dry and barren.

"It is as I told you, lord," said Éomer to Théoden. "The Isen runs dry, and has for many a day. Erkenbrand and I know that Saruman has caused this, but what new devilry he has planned is unknown to us."

"Soon it shall be known," said Gandalf.

"How close are we to Isengard?" Will asked Aragorn, an eager look in his eye.

"Not far; a mere ten leagues," the Ranger responded. "We shall rest some time this night, but when we depart at dawn, it should be but a couple miles until we reach Orthanc."

Will looked dismayed. "Must we rest for the night? Can not some of us continue?"

Aragorn shot him a knowing look. "I know you miss her and wish to see her," he said, "yet we cannot begin to imagine what Saruman has planned for us, and must be fully rested before we meet him. And, Will..." Aragorn paused, as if wondering how to best word what he would say next. "Will, there is no guarantee that Elizabeth will be there. We can only hope that they are somewhere nearby. Gandalf believes that they are there, and with his hope, I hope. Nonetheless, you must prepare yourself for disappointment."

The young man nodded, his lips thin, and said no more to the other man as they crossed the Ford.

It was after everyone was across when the elves of Rivendell bid the rest of the company farewell. "Be sure to tell our father that we are well," said Elladan to the leader of the host. "And," here he lowered his voice, "be sure to tell Arwen that Aragorn is hale." The elf nodded, and within a few minutes, the elven company was gone, making their way back North to tell Elrond of Rivendell all of the happenings down in the South.

Legolas glanced at the departing group, and then glanced once more back at the trees. "Oh, how I wish to go back into the trees and speak with them! They are unlike any wood I have ever traversed before."

"And how I wish to be back within the caverns of Helm's Deep, however far from orc heads they are," Gimli said wistfully.

Legolas looked down at his companion thoughtfully. "Let us make a bargain," he finally began. "If we both return safe out of the perils that await us, we will journey for a while together. You shall visit Fangorn with me, and then I will come with you to see Helm's Deep."

Gimli muttered at the bargain, but said, "I will endure Fangorn if you will come to see the beauty within the caverns and share their wonder with me."

Anamaria, who was behind them, rolled her eyes. She thought both of them mad; she would never venture into either dark caves or strange forests on a whim. However, she did wish to see the ocean once more; born near the sea, it was a part of her and she loved it, and it had been long since she last smelt the salty air of an ocean breeze.

What was left of the company followed the dry riverbed northwards, making their way quickly on the firm, level road that ran alongside the Isen. So they continued, most of them within their own thoughts, until the sun set and night fell. After nightfall, the group slowed, but nonetheless continued. It was an hour before midnight when Théoden finally called for the group to stop and rest for the remainder of the night.

An hour before dawn, the sentries of the group cried out; with the light of the moon they could see great dark shadows trudging through the lands beyond, the dark mass seeming like a great storm cloud. Gandalf stayed the initial panic that rose, telling all to be still and wait. As the darkness passed, the earth shook and rumbled, but just as quickly as they came, they vanished into the mountain's arms.

"What was that?" Will asked Legolas in slight horror.

"The Huorns have gone back to their home again," Legolas said in a soft voice. "They have done their part, and will now rest."

"Those were the bloody trees?" Jack asked incredulously. "Well, that's it; I'm not sleeping the rest of the night."

And indeed, neither Jack nor several others of the company rested again that night. It was not long after dawn when they were off once more. With the dawn, however, came a most unusual sight.

"Is the Wizard's Vale... burning?" Aragorn asked uncertainly as he watched the mist flow from the valley and into the sky.

"Nay, Estel," Elrohir said. "That is steam, not smoke."

"And so the wizard does hold the Isen," Halbarad muttered. "What does he do now?"

"We shall soon find out," Elladan said grimly.

During the night, their road had begun to turn west, and now the company was making their way due west on the last few miles to Isengard. The mists that covered the sky above the vale expanded, making their way east along the riverbed. Soon all of the lands around the group were covered in a heavy fog, making sight limited and their travel slow. One thing that all within the company noticed was that the further east they went, the more barren the lands became. While the area surrounding Isengard had once been lush and filled with many trees, they obviously were not so now. The only growth among the dirt mounds were thorny brambles and choking weeds.

"This is lovely," Will muttered sarcastically under his breath.

"It once was," said Elrohir sadly. "This is not my first time here, and when I last visited Isengard, all of these lands were filled with groves of trees with many birds singing in them. It was a fertile land, and Saruman had people he housed in Orthanc in return for their services. It was they took care of the land, long before you were born, and long before Saruman fell to evil. I am grieved to see what it is now."

"It'll grow back," Anamaria said in an unusually soft tone of voice.

Elrohir smiled. "If all goes well, it will indeed."

Within an half an hour of their start, a strange thing happened: suddenly the Isen was alive again. A great rush of water flew through the riverbed and became quicker as it made its way down south.

"An unexpected turn of events," Théoden said quietly to himself.

"Perhaps not as unexpected as one may guess," Gandalf answered in his usual vague way. "I doubt that it bodes well for Saruman."

The fog that surrounded the group accompanied them for many an hour, which slowed their pace considerably. The speed- or lack of it- made Will more anxious, for he wished to see if his wife was around and well. The remaining members of the Fellowship desired to see their three lost companions, though they kept their thoughts and hopes to themselves.

Finally, the fog cleared with the noon sun, and beyond the fog laid a most spectacular sight. Straight ahead lay the gate of Isengard- or, at least, what was left of it. The doors to the enclosed area were utterly destroyed, and the archway was the only remainder of their past presence. The walls surrounding the tower were jagged and uneven, as if a great earthquake had torn the whole area to pieces. Lounging on top of a great boulder, right outside of the archway, were three figures.

As the company approached, the tallest of the figures shook the one who looked to be sleeping. The third stood and, taking his pipe out of his mouth, said in a great voice, "Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" He then performed a lavish bow while the tallest figure helped the sleeping one onto his feet. "I am Meriadoc, son of Saradoc, and my companions here are Peregrin, son of Paladin, and Elizabeth, daughter of Weatherby." He glanced at Elizabeth to get a confirmation on the name, and after a short nod from her, continued. "Lord Saruman is within, but is closeted with one Wormtongue, or would doubtless be here to welcome such honorable guests."

"He would, would he?" said Gandalf with a laugh. "But tell me, was it he who ordered you to watch his damaged gates when you could take your attention away from food and bottle?" He glanced at the plates of meat and bottles of drink around them.

"Indeed no, Master Gandalf," said Merry gravely. "He is rather occupied. We are under orders from Treebeard who has taken over management of Isengard. He said to make some words fit to greet a lord of Rohan; I have done my best."

"And what of us?" Gimli said, unable to contain himself further. "A fine hunt you had led us on!"

Will did not bother with words; when he saw formalities were over, he immediately spurred his horse over to the boulder and without preamble caught Elizabeth in an embrace. She embraced him back, and both cared not about who watched.

"Wonderful. I love happy endings," Jack said with a grin.

"Happy ending, indeed!" Gimli started once more. "Here we trekked over two hundred leagues, and now we find you feasting and smoking! Where did you come across the weed, you villains?"

"I'd rather know how they came upon the wine," Legolas said with a smile.

Pippin bristled. "Villains? We are sitting on a field of victory enjoying a few well-earned comforts."

Théoden glanced from Will and Elizabeth to the two hobbits to Gandalf. "It seems you have found your lost companions, Gandalf. But it looks as if I have walked into another legend- are these creatures not Halflings, that some of us call the Holbytlan?"

"Hobbits, if you please, lord," Pippin said.

"Hobbits! An odd name, but a fitting one," said Théoden with a nod and a smile. "And I had not heard that they spouted smoke from their mouths."

Merry was about to answer before Gandalf cut him off. "Ah, my lord, you know not your peril in asking about the art of pipe-weed smoking! But time is pressing, and we must move on. Where is Treebeard?"

"Treebeard is up on the north side," said Merry. "He said he would meet you at the northern wall, and there you may find food, drink, and information," he ended with a bow.

"Good," said Gandalf. "Will you ride with me, King Théoden, to find Treebeard? You will learn much from him." The king nodded, and he, Éomer, and his riders started to follow Gandalf to speak with the Ent.

"I wish to look upon this Ent myself," said Elladan. "Will you come with us?"

"Nay; I wish to speak with my friends once more," said Aragorn. "Halbarad, if you would, go on ahead and see what information you can gather from the Ent." The man bowed his head, and with Elrond's sons, followed the Rohirrim to the northern part of Isengard.

Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, Jack, and Anamaria rode over to join the rest near the boulder. Will and Elizabeth finally were aware of their surroundings once more, and saw that they were alone.

"Where have the rest gone off to?" Will asked.

"While you were two were lost in your own little world of love, they decided to go find this Ent thing," Jack replied. "You should pay better attention to your surroundings, Will; the skill may save your life one day."

Will rolled his eyes and Elizabeth chuckled. "Good to see you are still your old self, Jack." She looked around the group, and her eyes darkened. "We saw Boromir and Gibbs fall. Did they..." she hesitated.

"Yes," said Aragorn briefly. "There was nothing we could do."

She nodded, her lips thin and her eyes wet. "So we had thought, but we had hoped so..." She sighed and leaned against her husband. Will gladly let her, embracing her tightly.

Anamaria glanced at the food the hobbits had and frowned. "Now where is this food of yours? If you don't have any, I'm going to join the others."

"Don't worry, we have some!" Pippin said with a grin. "As you can see, Isengard is still flooded quite a bit, but there is a storeroom nearby that survived. If you can give us a lift, we'll gladly show you; I'd rather not walk through that water unless I have to."

Aragorn took Pippin, and Anamaria took Merry, and with the two hobbits' and Elizabeth's guidance, they found the storeroom quickly.

"There is really no suitable place to eat in here," Merry said, "but we can easily carry it outside. Also, there is pipe-weed in here!"

"Pipe-weed?" Aragorn asked, frowning.

"Aye, and Longbottom Leaf at that!" Pippin said with a grin. "Excellent brand, right from the Shire, a 1417 crop. I cannot imagine how it came down here."

"I suppose Saruman has had dealings with the Shire," said Aragorn, the frown still on his face. "I am not sure what that means, but I feel it cannot bode well."

"Nothing we can do about it now," Merry said, and with Anamaria's help, managed to climb down from Brego. "C'mon Pippin, you may not like this water, but we must get some food!"

Pippin sighed, and with Aragorn's aid, scampered off Roheryn and into the storage shed. They brought out fruit and dried meat, and many bottles of ale and wine, as well as more pipe-weed. When everyone was carrying something, the two hobbits got up on the horses once more and they made their way back to the great boulder at the entrance. There they set out their feast and ate.

"Ah, salted pork!" said Gimli with a smile. "I would that I could sample that pipe-weed, but I'm afraid I lost my pipe sometime ago."

"Oh, no, Gimli, I have an extra one!" said Pippin, whipping it out of a deep pocket. "I cannot imagine why I carried it all this long while, but I did, along with my own. I'm glad I did, too, for this pipe-weed is excellent."

"This is not bad wine, either," said Jack, taking a bottle and swigging it. "Not bad at all."

"We have no cups, so Jack's method will have to make due," Elizabeth said with a shake of her head.

"Hasn't stopped me before," Anamaria grinned as she began at a bottle herself. "It is good, better than the stuff we've had on the road."

"So tell us," Legolas started, "how did you come to escape your captors and meet the Ents?"

At Legolas' bidding, the two hobbits and the woman began their tale, telling little of their time among the orcs, but giving many details about how they met Treebeard, about the Entmoot, about their time with Quickbeam, and about the Ents coming down upon Isengard.

"You should have seen them!" Elizabeth said, a sparkle in her eyes. "It was truly amazing; after the Entmoot was completed, the Ents were so riled up and ready for war- and the songs they sang would put fear into any enemy's heart."

"Songs, eh?" Jack said with a lop-sided grin. "Singing is a cheerful way to enter battle. Not the most tactful, granted. Not good for a surprise attack."

"Oh, they were not singing when they reached the wall," Merry said. "They were simply business, then. The Ents came yesterday to Isengard, tearing at the walls and causing destruction everywhere. There were a few orcs trying to stop them, but most had gone off to Helm's Deep, and the Ents took care of most of those fellows right quick. Many of them ended up running away.

"Then, early this morning, the Ents broke the dam that Saruman had created to keep the river from flowing. It was spectacular! The water went much higher than Pippin or me, and higher than Elizabeth; perhaps it was even higher than you, Strider. Treebeard kept us on his shoulders when it came, so we were safe from it. Any remaining orcs certainly weren't!"

"Soon after the dam broke, we realized we were rather hungry," Pippin broke in, "and once the flood waters had gone down, Treebeard let us go and we went to search for food. We soon found the storage room, and then we went down here to meet you all, and now here we are."

"Your tale is marvelous," said Legolas, "but I do wonder at one thing. You all seem a bit taller, especially you dear hobbits."

"Oh!" Elizabeth interjected, "we believe that it was the Ent-draught. Marvelous drink, very filling and odd in its own way. My hair also has become thicker ever since I started drinking it."

"I should like to taste some of this draught; it sounds unlike anything I have ever heard of before," the elf said as he looked over the three.

"I am sure Treebeard would not mind giving you some; I think he likes elves," Pippin said.

"But come now, we have told our tale- I would know what happened to you three, and why my dear husband has a bandage around his head," Elizabeth said, glancing at the bandages distastefully.

And so the rest of them told about their time tracking them across the plains, their encounter with Éomer's company and their time in Fangorn, all the way through Edoras, the warg battle, and the battle at Helm's Deep. By the end of their long tale, the hobbits and Elizabeth were shocked by all they went through.

"You fell off a _cliff_?" Merry asked Aragorn in wonder. "Dear lords, Strider, I cannot believe you survived that!"

"Neither could we when he came riding up the ramp on Brego there," Anamaria said, nodding to the horse which was now her own. "Both his horse and mine perished in the battle, but his kinsmen were nice enough to bring Aragorn's horse down, and he gave me Brego."

"Good horse," Pippin said with a smile. "I cannot believe he found you."

"I was very fortunate," Aragorn said with a nod. "But speaking of horses, my packs were retrieved from Hasufel, which I am grateful for, for I have something for the both of you."

Will, understanding what Aragorn was getting at, stood as the Ranger got up and they both went to their steeds to retrieve some very special items. From a small pack on Roheryn, Aragorn withdrew two daggers, and from Wistan Will took out a bow and quiver filled with many arrows strung together in a tight bundle.

"Well, I never thought to see that again!" Merry said as he took back his dagger. "Thank you, Aragorn." Pippin also nodded his thanks as he was given back the knife from Lórien.

"Thank Legolas; it was his sharp eyes that caught sight of all of your weapons," said the man with a smile.

"Thank you, Legolas," Elizabeth said as she took back her bow. "But what is this quiver, Will? Mine was torn from my back during our captivity."

"I figured it would be so, and so I requested a well-made quiver with many arrows when we were at Edoras," he explained. "The bow would not be much use without a quiver, after all. I also have this, thanks to Legolas' sight." From his pocket, he pulled out the necklace that Galadriel had gifted Elizabeth back in Lórien.

"My necklace," she said softly. "Thank you indeed, Legolas, for finding it; I thought it lost forever. And thank you, dear husband, for keeping it for me." She embraced and kissed him, careful to be wary of his wounded head.

Gimli cleared his throat as the two embraced and turned to the two hobbits. "There is something I am still curious about, my friends. How did Wormtongue come to be in Orthanc?"

"Oh, he was already there when we came here," Merry explained. "We could see him from the window as the Ents destroyed Isengard, and he fit the description Gandalf gave us when he rode by the Entmoot about two days ago."

"I thought I had fallen asleep and was dreaming," Pippin confessed. "Seeing a shining rider who looked like Gandalf would be something only in dreams, or so I thought."

"The Ents were still talking about their plan of action," said Elizabeth, "and Quickbeam the Ent was with us when Gandalf came. He did not seem to be too surprised by the fact that we were at the Entmoot, though he only said that you were all 'well' when we asked about all of you. When he first rode up, he simply ignored our shock at seeing him alive and asked to speak to Treebeard. Quickbeam fetched him, and they spoke for a few moments before Gandalf left with only a few warning words about Saruman and Wormtongue. If it were not for the Ents' assurances that he was really there, I would have thought it a dream."

"He was very much in a hurry, though he may have helped convince the Ents to attack Isengard; it was not a few hours after he left that they ended their three day moot and stormed down into this vale," Merry added. "And that part of the tale you already know."

"I still find it a marvel that he is with us again," Elizabeth said with a smile. "He gives me hope that this whole ordeal will end well."

"He does," Aragorn agreed. "His return allowed King Théoden to return to himself, and helped turn the tide at the battle of Helm's Deep."

"Your warning about the Uruk-hai approaching was helpful, too," Will said to Aragorn. "They could have come upon us completely unprepared."

"Your fall had one useful outcome, at the least," Gimli muttered. "I don't want to see you repeating that again, nonetheless." Aragorn only chuckled softly.

"Speaking of which," Elizabeth said with a deep frown, "you are in no condition to travel, Aragorn, after such an ordeal. Anamaria, Will, you two shouldn't be here, either. What has happened to your senses?"

"They have none," Jack supplied cheerfully.

Aragorn ignored the other man. "There will be time for rest after all battles have been fought and won."

"And I could not go another day without seeing you, my dear Elizabeth," Will said.

Elizabeth grudgingly accepted their excuses. "You are right, Aragorn- and if you missed me as much as I missed you, my husband, I understand why you came." Will's response was only to wrap his arm around her and to bring her closer. "Still, Anamaria, your leg wound sounds terrible from their stories."

"Jack was exaggerating," she said with a wave of her hand.

"I do not exaggerate!" he protested. "If it makes you feel any better, Elizabeth, darling, I did my best to discourage them from coming with us."

"Did not!" said both Anamaria and Will at the same time.

"From what I recall, you were gambling that they would fall behind and be 'eaten by trees'," added Aragorn sardonically.

"Eaten by trees?" Legolas asked with a raised brow. "That is nonsense, Jack. The Huorns meant no ill will to us."

"I still don't believe you, mate," Jack said. "They were ready to decapitate the whole lot of us."

Their conversation was cut short as the rest of the company from Helm's Deep came back to the front gates, this time with Treebeard. Gandalf approached them and smiled briefly at the company before becoming grim.

"I hope you all have enjoyed your reunion, for I fear that we now move onto business. I must speak with Saruman, and I would ask that you all, as the remainders of the Fellowship and representatives of your peoples, would accompany me. It will be a dour affair."

They quickly cleaned up what was left of their meal and went to their horses once more. Led by Gandalf and the king of Rohan, the king's nephew, the remaining members of the Fellowship, Halbarad, the sons of Elrond, and Treebeard headed to the heart of Isengard for the inevitable encounter with Saruman.


	31. Orthanc

Quite a bit of the scene with Saruman is from the books, though a good amount from the books was omitted as well. Some movie verse, as well as my own additions here and there make up that scene.

* * *

Chapter 31: Orthanc

The soldiers of Théoden's company waited at the entrance of Isengard while Treebeard led the rest to the steps of Orthanc. They were silent as they approached, the only words spoken being Gandalf's cautionary words about the power of Saruman's voice. Even though he was locked in his tower, his voice bore great power over the mind.

"The wizard seems unwilling to show himself when I am about, so I will depart," said Treebeard in his slow, smooth speech. "I will be at the entrance, keeping guard."

Gandalf nodded to the Ent, and then turned back to the rest of the company. "Remember that even defeated Saruman has great power. His speech is cunning and will twist your thoughts if you are not careful."

"Power just in his voice, eh?" Jack muttered to Anamaria. "If the old man isn't exaggerating, this could prove entertaining."

"Just as long as he doesn't convince you to shoot off your own head, Jack Sparrow," she hissed back. "You look much too relaxed for something like this."

"Best way to go about life, love," he said with a smile. Merry, who sat with Anamaria on Brego, seemed caught between amusement and worry over the man's countenance, but turned his attention to the 'old man' when he started to speak.

"Saruman! Saruman, come forth!" Gandalf called in a commanding voice.

As they waited for the other wizard to answer the summons, Will whispered to Elizabeth, "Do you know why Gandalf wants to talk with him?"

Elizabeth minutely shook her head. "Ever since he came back he's been even harder to read. I imagine he wants Saruman to pay for his crimes, perhaps. I cannot begin to guess."

Their conversation was cut short as another answered Gandalf. The voice came from a balcony a dozen or so feet above the door of Orthanc. "Who is it?" the voice asked. "What do you want?"

Éomer stirred as he recognized the voice, and Théoden's expression became grim, but Gandalf seemed unmoved by it. "You know who I am. Go and fetch Saruman, Gríma Wormtongue, and do not waste our time!"

There was no immediate answer, but not even a minute had passed before another voice broke the air. The sound of it was as smooth as honey and as light as the sound of a harp; it made all other voices sound uncouth and harsh. The owner of the voice did not belong in that cold, dark tower surrounded by destruction but rather on a seat of high honor in a great palace. Even the immortal folk gathered there were not unmoved by its sound, and it took great effort of mind and will to reject it.

"Why must you disturb my rest? Will you let me have no peace?" Onto the balcony came an elderly man who bore a great resemblance to Gandalf. His hair was long and white, and his robes were of a white material that seemed to shimmer in many colors in the sunlight. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but he bore wisdom openly on his countenance.

"But come now," he started, "many of you I know by name, and know you to be mighty and honorable, Théoden Lord of the Mark of Rohan not the least! Worthy son of Thengel of the House of Eorl, why have you not come to me before, and as a friend? Much I have desired to see you and save you from evil counsel. Despite the injuries that have been done to me that Rohan has been a part of, I still would save you from ruin. Indeed, I alone can aid now."

Théoden opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words left his lips. He looked uncertainly at Gandalf, and then at Saruman, but still said nothing.

"Bah," muttered Gimli, "in the language of Isengard aid means ruin, and more besides. This is nonsense and a waste of time."

"I agree, Gimli," said Éomer, speaking loudly enough for all to hear. "Indeed lord, if I may give my own counsel, I would remember Gandalf's words! So we see them in action; he is nothing but an old man with a forked tongue. What aid could he give you, he that saw your son slain?"

Saruman's eyes flared. "What of your own tongue, young serpent?" he said angrily, but managed to calm himself. "Your valor is in arms, Éomer Éomund's son! Meddle not in affairs that you do not understand. However, if you become king one day, you will have to choose your friends wisely, and the friendship of Saruman and Isengard is not something to be lightly thrown aside." He turned once more to the king. "What say you, my lord of Rohan? Will you and I have peace and friendship?"

The king of Rohan was silent a moment longer, but he then started slowly, as if it took effort, "We shall have peace." Uneasy stirring began behind him, and he held up his hand as if to stop all arguments. "We shall have peace when you and all of your works have perished- and the works of your dark master to whom you would deliver us. We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, we shall have peace!"

A breath seemed to pass through the group, and all who were even partially held under Saruman's spell were freed by Théoden's verdict.

Saruman helped to break the spell completely with his next words. His voice changed completely and was now dark with malice. "Gibbets and crows! Dotard! What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs? Too long have they escaped the gibbet themselves. But the noose comes; hang if you will!"

"But what do you want, Gandalf Greyhame?" said Saruman, turning to Gandalf, his voice smooth and mellow once more. Despite his earlier outburst, those of weaker will found themselves falling under his spell once more. "Why do you endure such company? You are proud, but with cause, for you are wise. Will you not accept my counsel? I fear that I lost patience last time I was with you in my eagerness to help you, and now I regret it. But let us put that behind us. Leave your crude companions and you and I, two members of a high and ancient order, may be able to take counsel together. Together we can accomplish many things, and heal the disorder in the world. Dismiss these lesser folk and consult with me. Will you not come up?"

"He- he will not, will he?" Elizabeth muttered to her companions.

"No, no, of course not," said Will, but there was uncertainty in his voice.

"Wouldn't put it past him," Jack said, still managing to look extremely relaxed with the situation. Legolas overheard him and shot a piercing glare in his direction. The elf was often unaffected by the man's words; his reaction to them now only revealed his uncertainty.

Halbarad glanced at the sons of Elrond and his chieftain, but the three of them were calm and expressionless. He only hoped that their faith in Gandalf would prove to be well placed.

It did. Gandalf burst out laughing, and any thoughts of the wizard abandoning them vanished from their minds. "Saruman, Saruman, I must have a clearer memory than you. I remember your arguments and deeds, and one who is imprisoned will be slow in returning willfully to his prison. Nay, I do not think I will come up. But you, Saruman, will you not come down? Isengard has proved to be less strong than you believed, and it is time to turn to new things."

The other wizard scoffed at the idea. "Does an unarmed man come to greet robbers at his door? No, I will not come down."

Gandalf sighed. "I do not wish to hurt or kill you, and I have the power to protect you. You can leave Orthanc, free."

Will turned incredulously to his companions, but they did not seem as eager to protest against the wizard's freedom as he did. How could they let someone as dangerous as him loose? Before he could say anything, Saruman answered.

"That sounds well," he sneered. "I am sure that you will find Orthanc quite to your liking and my absence convenient. Moreover, what do you mean 'free'? I am sure there are conditions."

"When I say 'free', I mean 'free'; free from bond, chain, and command; to go where you will, even to Mordor if you so wish it. But you will first surrender the keys of Orthanc and your staff. They shall be pledges of your conduct, to be returned later, if you merit them." Gandalf stared him straight in the eye, willing him to believe him and turn from his evil ways.

Saruman laughed wildly. "Later! Oh yes, later, after you have the keys of Barad-dûr itself, as well as the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the Five Wizards! You have always sought power, Gandalf, even as you try to remain modest. You surround yourself with those who eat from your hand like dogs."

He turned to the others in the company. "I know of you well, sons of Elrond, and long has your half-bred father followed Gandalf, and like children you do the same. But even as pitiful as the _peredhil_ line is, more pitiful is the last remnants of the house of Elros. Aye, I know the heir of Isildur stands on my doorstep, and he defiles it with his presence. Long ago your people lost their honor, and so Gandalf knows; the power of Númenor once possessed by the heirs of Elendil is long gone, leaving only a people of brigands better fit to muck the stables of Rohan than all else!"

Halbarad's hand flew to the hilt of his sword, but Aragorn said nothing. Elladan and Elrohir, too, were silent, though their eyes still flared over the insult on their father.

"Silence!" said Gandalf before the wizard could say more. "You have become a fool, Saruman. You had a chance to turn away from evil and mend your deeds, but you chose to cling to your failing ways. Stay then, but you will not easily come out again."

"Who are you to command me where I stay and go?" he hissed. "Who is Gandalf the Grey to command the master of his order?"

Gandalf suddenly seemed to grow great in size and power, and the other wizard became dismayed. "I am not Gandalf the Grey as you thought," he said, "but Gandalf the White, who has returned from death. You have no color now, and I cast you out of the order and the Council. Saruman, your staff is broken."

Suddenly there was a crack, and Saruman's staff split into many pieces. He cried aloud and fell back. "Go!" commanded Gandalf, and Saruman fell back and, staggering, left the balcony.

Suddenly a heavy item was thrown from the balcony, aimed at the company gathered below. It glanced off the iron railing and barely passed by Gandalf's head before it landed into the murky, dirty water that surrounded the area.

"Murderous rogue!" said Éomer angrily, but Gandalf only shook his head.

"No, I do not believe that was thrown by Saruman, or at his bidding," he said. "I imagine that was a parting gift from Master Wormtongue. I do not believe it was a thing that Saruman would have chosen to cast away."

As Gandalf spoke, Pippin, who sat with Aragorn upon Roheryn, saw that the object thrown by Wormtongue had landed near him. Before he really understood what he was doing, he climbed down from the horse and waded through the water to retrieve it.

"Pippin!" Aragorn said, concerned about the hobbit handling any object owned by Saruman. The shout caught Gandalf's attention, and he turned from Éomer just as Pippin picked up the heavy, sphere-shaped object. He quickly rode over to him.

"I'll take that, my lad," he said gently, but firmly. "Quickly now!" Reluctantly the hobbit handed the heavy object to Gandalf, and even as Aragorn came to pick him up, the young hobbit's eyes were still on the globe.

O0O0O0O

"What did I say?" said Jack as they rode out of the ruins of Isengard and onto the dry road. "Entertainment at its finest."

Anamaria rolled her eyes while Aragorn looked slightly confused. "Entertainment?" he asked.

"Bah, don't even bother!" the woman scoffed. "Odd things amuse him."

"_You_ just need to open your mind," the other retorted. "It was wonderful watching the old man's words affect so many. Ol' Gibbs would have had a heart attack just being there." The man sobered for a moment before turning to Merry. "_You_ nearly did."

"Did not!" the hobbit protested. "I'll admit he sounded nice, but I knew he was no good through the whole spectacle. I haven't forgotten about his orcs."

"C'mon Merry, I'm sure Gandalf and the king would make better company than him," said Anamaria, and without another word, rode up to the front of the procession to join them.

Jack turned to Halbarad, who rode beside Aragorn. "Her leg makes her testy," he explained. "She's usually a bit easier to get along with."

"I- I see," said Halbarad, finding himself at a loss of words. Frankly put, he never had met a man like this Jack Sparrow before and was not sure what to make of him.

Elizabeth, despite her short time away from him, had no such hesitations. "I'm sure that's not the only thing that makes her testy."

"I am not speaking to your wife, William Turner. Be sure to tell her that for me," he said coolly.

"Not speaking to- why are you not speaking to me?" she demanded.

"Tell her, Will, that she still owes me a certain bracelet. She does not exist until I have it."

"A brace- you are not speaking about _that _bracelet- Will, tell him it's been sixth months and that he should let the issue go!"

"Jack, you should- wait a minute," Will paused. "I am not mediating between you two. If you want a mediator, ask someone else."

"Oh, I don't need to talk to _him_," Elizabeth scoffed. Taking the reins from her husband, she kicked the horse forward to join Anamaria at the front of the procession.

"Good going, laddie," Gimli said. "Both of the ladies are now angry with you."

"Can't imagine why," Jack shrugged. "Not as if I deserved it."

"I am not so sure I would agree," said Legolas, and he said something in Sindarin that made Aragorn and the twins chuckle; the usually stoic Halbarad unsuccessfully tried to hide his own amusement as well.

"Now _that_ I know I did not deserve," he frowned. "At least Pippin is on my side, eh Pip?"

Pippin, who had been unnaturally quiet throughout their banter, looked up as if startled. "I beg your pardon?"

The other man rolled his eyes. "At this point of time I'm thinking I can find better company." With that, he encouraged Nithhad forward and left the others.

"I am afraid I will never understand him," Halbarad said with a frown.

"Just understand that underneath his hard shell there lies a good man," said Aragorn. "I have seen it many a time on our journey."

"_Adar_ sensed it within him, despite his odd mannerisms," said Elrohir. "And even from the last time I saw him he has changed."

"Indeed," said Elladan in agreement. "A subtle change, but nonetheless there."

"We have all changed because of our journey, brothers," said Aragorn, "and Jack Sparrow not the least. Yet this journey is not yet over and we may yet see more to pass before the end comes."

O0O0O0O

When Anamaria steered her horse towards Gandalf and King Théoden, she was surprised when the king acknowledged them and when he paid special attention to Merry.

"Greetings Lady Anamaria, Master Meriadoc," he started. "I see that you are not spouting smoke anymore, master hobbit."

Gandalf only smiled as Merry chuckled. "Pipe-weed smoking is not the best thing to do while riding, my lord, but I do it whenever I have the chance, and when I have some weed at hand. It is very relaxing."

"I have not seen such a practice before," said the king. "Is it common in your land?"

"Oh yes," said Merry, "though it is an art that has not been practiced for more than a few generations. Tobold Hornblower of Longbottom first grew the true pipe-weed in his gardens around the year 1070, at least according to our own reckoning. It was over 350 years ago, if that helps at all. How old Toby came by the plant is actually a very funny story..."

The hobbit continued for quite a while, entertaining the king of Rohan, Anamaria, and others around them with the story of the founding of pipe-weed, as well as stories about the foundation of different types of weed and their spread to other peoples outside of the Shire. Excepting a couple of questions from Théoden, Merry ruled the next hour with a sprawling, detailed history that covered many aspects of hobbit life.

"Your Shire sounds like a peaceful land," said the king when he was finished. "Perhaps the world of Men will have this peace someday."

"I think it will, my lord," said Merry.

At sunset, the company reached the Fords, which were now bubbling merry since the Ents broke the dam that had held it back for so long. The Fords of Isen, nonetheless, were still shallow enough to cross with ease and on the river's eastern bank they made their camp for the night.

The Fellowship set their camp a little separated from the Rohirrim of the king's company, close to the Grey Company where Elrond's sons and the Dúnedain rested. A bit further away from the rest of the party sat Elizabeth and Will. They were not able to speak privately with one another since they were reunited that morning, and so they took this time to be alone together.

"You were right," Will said as he brought his hand to his wife's hair. "It is thicker."

"Dirty, too," she said with a frown. "I will admit that I would not mind a nice warm bath now. I haven't seen one since Lórien, though at the least I was able to wash some of the dirt off after Merry, Pippin, and I escaped."

Will smiled at her ramble, but his mind quickly focused upon the last words she spoke. "You did not speak much about your time with the orcs."

The light in Elizabeth's eyes faltered and she looked away from him. "There is not much to say about that time."

"Elizabeth," he said kindly, but firmly. "What did they do to you? Did they- did they defile-"

"No!" she said, cutting him short with a shake of her head. "No, no, dear Will, they did nothing of the sort. But still they were- they were cruel in other ways. They were under orders to leave us unharmed, but that did not stop them completely. They were alike to Barbossa's men, though in some ways worse than any of them."

Will's eyes lit up in fury. "If they were not already slaughtered I would decapitate them myself."

The woman put a hand on his arm. "It is in the past now. What is done is done, and I came to no permanent harm."

"Nonetheless, if you reached Isengard-"

"I did not- at least, not in their company," she gave him a soft smile.

Will did not relax, but he did not argue with her further. Rather he asked, "Do you know why they took you? We know that Saruman knew that- that a hobbit carried It- but you are no hobbit. Why take you?"

"I spoke with Merry and Pippin about this during the Entmoot," she said. "We cannot be sure, but Saruman obviously knew that there were women in the group; perhaps he even knew that we were there with the hobbits by Bree. Aragorn did warn us of spies in _The Prancing Pony_ common-room, and I would not be surprised if he heard news of us. Perhaps it was merely to satisfy his own curiosity."

The man nodded thoughtfully upon this. "If he heard word that there were five humans- dressed in clothing unlike the wear in Bree- with these hobbits, I can see why he would wonder about us. And rather than mistakenly take another member of the Fellowship, he only ordered the women to be taken, since he knew that you and Anamaria were with the hobbits from the beginning."

"So we concluded," Elizabeth said. "Hobbits of the Shire, according to Merry and Pippin, are not known to make friends with mankind, and Saruman likely wondered who we were." She closed her eyes. "I am only thankful Éomer's company attacked when they did, and that we came upon Treebeard. We had a great stroke of luck."

"Yes," Will agreed, but he thought that it was too close a shave. If events had not played out as they did, she could be dead, and the man could not imagine life without her. The worst part about this whole ordeal was that the war was not yet over, and Elizabeth's life would constantly be in danger until it was.

He could not live with himself if she died and he did nothing to keep her protected. He would find a way to keep her out of harm, even if she hated him for it.

O0O0O0O

"Smoking again, eh?" Anamaria asked as she sat down with Merry and Pippin. She was not using a crutch anymore- quite stubbornly not using one- and while the hours on horseback made her ankle ache considerably, she simply ignored the pain and forced her foot and leg to work and support her body. Her left arm, to her relief, was down to a dull ache; the large gash had been long, but superficial and did not need stitches. Under the bandages, it was healing quickly.

"Of course! Pipe-weed helps me relax," said Merry with a smile. Pippin nodded but said nothing.

"The king seemed interested in it," the woman said to Merry.

"He did, didn't he?" Merry said with a nod. "He had genuine interest of a different culture, a rarity, really. Truly a remarkable fellow, King Théoden. Very polite, too. I for one hope to get to know him a bit better, perhaps after this whole war has ended."

"Aye," Anamaria nodded. "He's not too bad, I suppose. His niece Éowyn isn't bad, either; not at all a spoiled, pampered princess as I'd expect of the type." Merry nodded, but Pippin remained silent, lost in his own thoughts. "Hey, Pippin, why are you so down? You're never this quiet."

Merry only rolled his eyes. "He's probably thinking about that stone again- I don't think he's stopped!"

"I am just curious why Gandalf is so secretive about it, is all!" Pippin protested. "And, well, I didn't get a good look at it the first time; I'd like to see it again."

"Don't even try, Pip," Merry warned. "Whether you want to see it again or not doesn't matter. Gandalf has it now and it's his business, so you'd better stop thinking about it."

"He was the one who fished it out of the water, though," Anamaria pointed out. "And Gandalf is being ridiculously secretive with what Pippin found. It's hardly fair to him."

"Anamaria, don't encourage him!" Merry said. "It may not be fair, but you don't go crossing a wizard over something like that!"

"You don't cross pirates either, and I lived," she shot back.

Merry's eyes widened. "You- _pirates_?"

"Eh, forget I said anything- it weren't anything," she said with a shrug. A long time ago, back in Bag End, Jack, Gibbs, and she made an agreement not to discuss their more questionable actions in the Caribbean. Will and Elizabeth agreed to keep their past a secret as well, since it would hardly be looked favorably upon. Even though she knew these two well now, she did not trust them to understand her past, and she did not want men such as Aragorn overhearing about it. As it was, she and her companions had been in Middle-earth for nearly six months now and, while she would not admit it to anyone else, she knew that her experiences here had changed her. For all she knew piracy was not in her blood anymore.

"Anyways," the woman continued, facing Pippin, "I'm not suggesting you go pilfer the ball back, but," she turned to Merry, "it is his stone, though I don't see anything interesting about it."

"Like I said, it's with Gandalf now and there is nothing we can do about it," Merry said with a shrug. He dumped the ashes out of his pipe and stood. "Get it off your mind, Pippin, and get some sleep. Good night, Anamaria." With that, the hobbit left for his bedroll.

Anamaria shrugged. "Eh, he's likely right. It was yours, but isn't anymore- at least, it isn't worth crossing Gandalf for. If it were some gold or jewels, sure, but it's just a rock- it's not worth it. Get some sleep." With that, she stood and hobbled off.

O0O0O0O

Pippin soon joined Merry to go to sleep, but while his cousin quickly fell into his dreams, the young hobbit could not rest. His mind could only focus on the glass ball in Gandalf's keeping. He could still feel its weight in his hands as he picked it up from the water, and he could still see the faint red glow that resided in its depths.

He tried to think of something else, but his mind kept on going back to the stone. Finally, he could take it no more. Silently Pippin got up, wrapping his cloak close about him as the chilly spring air hit him in full force. Driven by some impulse he did not understand, he silently crept to over where Gandalf lay. While the wizard's eyes were half-open, the hobbit soon discovered that the old man was nonetheless asleep. Between his right side and his bent arm was a large bulge wrapped in cloth- Pippin knew it immediately to be the glass ball.

Spying a large stone nearby, the hobbit quickly formed an idea. He quietly brought it over to Gandalf and, as stealthily as possible, switched the large rock and the cloth-covered object with one another.

'_You idiotic fool!_' said Pippin to himself. '_You'll get into frightful trouble, you will_.' But even as he thought this, he could not force himself to switch them back. Rather he took the ball, still wrapped up in the cloth, and stole away past his other sleeping companions to a secluded part on the edge of the camp.

"I wouldn't be doin' that if I were you," a voice suddenly spoke out of the blue.

Pippin jumped, nearly dropping the ball in his surprise. He had made sure to stay away from his sleeping companions, and had been as silent as only a hobbit could be, and yet somehow he seemed to miss Jack. The man had his hat over his eyes; he had been sure that he was asleep.

"I just want to look at it," he said somewhat defensively, sitting nearby and slowly unwrapping the cloth that covered the stone.

"Your head, mate," was the other's only response. Pippin looked up in slight disbelief at the comment, but was soon drawn back to the globe in front of him. He put both of his hands onto the orb and gazed into its depths as if memorized. There was silence for a minute, but when a small whimper escaped Pippin's lips, Jack lifted his hat to get a better look at him.

Pippin's face was pale and while his eyes were unseeing, the man could see that he was struggling a little. Laying his hat aside, he cautiously asked, "Pippin?" The hobbit's mouth opened to let out a silent scream, and just as Jack stood to force him away from the stone, his renting scream filled the air and he fell back away from the stone, lifeless.

"Damn it!" Jack said, throwing the cloth once more over the globe and kneeling beside his young friend. "Now you've gone and done it, you idiot." He shook the hobbit to try to get some sort of response out of him, but there was nothing.

Suddenly he noticed Gandalf in his peripheral vision, and he was all but shoved aside as the wizard came and took the hobbit's hand. He spared the old man a glare before turning to the others that followed him.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked, glancing behind Jack to try to get a look at Pippin.

"I'll tell you what happened," Merry muttered, shaking his head. "That no-good Took went meddling in affairs that he shouldn't have meddled in."

Aragorn and the sons of Elrond were soon to come over and they overheard Merry's statement. "What do you mean?" asked Elrohir.

"Pip has been obsessing about that glass ball he recovered, and now he's gotten himself into trouble." Merry also glanced to Gandalf and his cousin, both worry and anger set in his gaze.

Elrohir and Elladan nodded in unison, keeping an eye on the wizard to see if he would need any aid, but soon Pippin came to. When they saw he was conscious, the members of the Fellowship and Elrond's sons came closer.

The hobbit, however, only had eyes for Gandalf. "Gandalf! Forgive me," he said, closing his eyes in despair.

"Look at me," the wizard demanded. "What did you see?"

In a low, hesitant voice, Pippin began. "I saw a dark sky, and tall battlements, and many stars. It seemed so far away, and yet very clear at the same time. Flying around the tower were these things with wings. They looked like bats, only I think they were very big, even though they looked small in the glass. I think there were nine of them. One came and flew straight towards me, and I tried to get away, but I could not- it was so terrible!

"But when it came and it covered the globe, it disappeared- and then... I saw _him_. I could hear his voice in my head." His voice faded and he closed his eyes once more.

"What did he say to you?" Gandalf asked. "Speak!"

"He asked me who I was, and I didn't answer. He hurt me so horribly, and I was so pressed, and so I said: 'A hobbit'. He then laughed, and it was so terrible; it was like being pierced by knives. He told me to tell Saruman that this dainty was not for him, and that he would send for it at once. I do not remember anything else." Pippin turned his head away and shut his eyes.

"Look at me!" said Gandalf. Pippin obeyed, looking straight up into his eyes. The wizard held his gaze for a moment before his face softened and a shadow of a smile appeared. He laid his hand softly on the hobbit's head. "You have taken no harm, and there is no lie in your eyes. A fool, but an honest fool you remain, Peregrin Took." Rather than scold him further, he took the young hobbit into his arms and brought him back to his bedroll. Merry followed. "However, if you feel an itch in your palms again, tell me of it! I would rather not have a rock under my arm again. Now I'll leave you two be for a while."

O0O0O0O

"What is that thing?" Anamaria asked, staring at the now-covered stone suspiciously.

"I had only suspicions, but it is surely the _palantír_ of Orthanc," said Elladan. "Long ago did the Kings of Gondor put it in Orthanc."

"Aye," said Elrohir. "It comes originally from the treasury of Elendil, and by birthright belongs to Aragorn."

"So it does," said Aragorn, "and unless Gandalf has some need for it, I will take it into my safekeeping."

Legolas was listening to the conversation, but his attention was on Jack, who was watching the stone with a curious gleam in his eye. "Did you see Pippin take the stone, Jack?" the elf asked.

"Me?" the pirate looked at him wide-eyed. "I didn't see any pilfering, mate, but I did see him just as he went to use it. Told 'im he would get himself killed, but he didn't listen."

"You did not intervene?" asked Elrohir with a raised brow.

"I don't go messing with wizard's business, mate, unlike our young friend," Jack said with a shrug.

"And I would be less kind to you if you did," said Gandalf as he came back to them, King Théoden right behind him. "The Orthanc-stone, however, is not the business of wizards, but rather the heir of Elendil. Will you, Aragorn, take the _palantír_ and guard it? It is a dangerous charge."

"I will," said the man, and Gandalf picked it up and gave it to him with a short bow.

"If I may counsel you in use of your own, do not use it yet! Be wary."

"When have I been hasty and unwary, I who has waited and prepared for so many long years?" asked Aragorn.

"Never yet; do not stumble at the end of your road," answered Gandalf. "But at the least keep this thing secret, you and all who stand here! Pippin above all should not know where it is bestowed, lest he has the urge to look into it again."

"Surely he has learned his lesson?" asked Elizabeth. "He looked as if dead!"

"The lure of evil can be impossible to ignore, especially when dealing with an evil such as the Dark Lord," said Gandalf.

"At least we know now the link between Isengard and Mordor and how it worked," said Legolas.

"Aye, that much is explained," added Gimli, glancing at the covered Stone suspiciously.

"Strange powers have our enemies, and strange weaknesses!" said Théoden. "But it has long been said: _oft evil will shall evil mar_."

"Many times has that been seen," said Gandalf, "but this time we have especially strangely fortunate. I thought myself to look into the Stone and to find its uses. Had I done so, I should have revealed myself to him, and I am not ready for such a trial- if I ever am.

"As it is, the Enemy thought that the Stone was still in Orthanc, and that Saruman held a hobbit captive there, driven to look into the glass for his torment. It may be some time before he learns of his error; we must snatch that time. We have been too leisurely. We must move; even along the Isen we are too close to Isengard."

Suddenly, a shadow fell over them. The bright moonlight was suddenly cut off as a vast winged shape passed over like a black cloud. Many of the Riders cowered in fear as it wheeled about and went north, flying at a speed greater than any wind of Middle-earth. Soon it was gone.

"Nazgûl!" cried Gandalf. "The Nazgûl have crossed the river! Ride, ride! Wait not for the dawn! Let not the swift wait for the slow! Ride!" He sprang away, calling for Shadowfax as he did. Aragorn went after him, and at Gandalf's command, picked up Pippin from where he lay between sleep and wakefulness.

Shadowfax soon came to where Gandalf originally slept. The wizard slung the small bag with his belongings over his shoulder and quickly leapt upon the steed's back. Aragorn lifted Pippin and set him in front of Gandalf, still wrapped in his cloak and blanket.

"Farewell! Follow fast," said the wizard. "Away, Shadowfax!" The great horse tossed his head and leapt forward, and soon enough both the horse and its riders disappeared into the night.


	32. Split Roads

Chapter 32: Split Roads

The moon was past its halfway point across the sky and heading west when Gandalf and Pippin departed. The part of the camp that had not awoken to Pippin's scream were now all awake due to the flight of the Nazgûl, and by the orders of King Théoden and Aragorn were preparing to leave and ride the rest of the night.

"Time has grown short," said Elladan to Aragorn as he prepared Roheryn.

"Short indeed," he agreed. "We must reach Helm's Deep by noon today, and from there we will likely ride with the Rohirrim to the encampment at Dunharrow, and then on to Minas Tirith." The twins said nothing, and Aragorn glanced at his foster brothers expectantly. It was obvious to him that they had more to say.

"When we left Rivendell," Elrohir started after a moment of silence, "our father said that there will be a time on the road that we would come to where haste is needed. The hour has now come; his word is that if you are in haste, remember the Paths of the Dead."

"Haste is needed," said Aragorn, "but my haste would be great indeed before I take that road. It is one I do not wish to tread."

"But tread it you may need to," said Elladan, "and you know that you would have my brother and me beside you."

Aragorn nodded as he secured the _palantír_ in a saddlebag on his steed. Both elves eyed it for a moment.

"Have you come to a decision concerning the _palantír_?" asked Elladan.

"Not yet," said Aragorn. "I deem that my time to use it will come sooner than Gandalf would wish; I understand his counsel, but in this matter I must follow my heart."

"Still, remember his words!" Elrohir cautioned. "If you decide to look into it, the foe you will meet will be unlike any foe you have yet faced."

"I know," was all he said, and they said no more on the matter.

Nearby, Will was interrogating Legolas for answers. Gimli stood close by as the elf prepared Arod.

"Haste is all well and good," the man said. "But why now? Why is a Nazgûl here and what in the world is he flying? Is he here for us?"

Legolas shook his head. "I do not understand it all, Will, but I believe that the wraith was going to Orthanc, for how could the Dark Lord know that Saruman lost the _palantír_? He may believe that the wizard has the Ring-bearer, and he sent his foul servant to collect his prize."

Gimli nodded solemnly. "And now we must ride swifter than the Enemy, for he will soon discover that all is not as he believes. He will discover that Saruman no longer carries the stone and does not have a hobbit."

Will looked grim. "Do you think the wraith will ride after us, once he discovers the truth?

Legolas shook his head. "He will first report to his dark master, and seeing how swiftly the winged creature flies, Sauron will likely know before this day's end."

"What was that thing he rode? Was it- was it a dragon?"

"Oh, no!" said the elf with a light chuckle. "If ever you saw a dragon, Will Turner, you would know it was one. The last living dragon was Smaug, who was slain nigh eighty years ago. Nay, that creature he flew was one of the Dark Lord's many fell beasts that he breeds within his dark land, though how it came to be or what its proper name is none can tell."

"We will be hard pressed to outrun it, even on these horses," Gimli muttered.

"But run we must," answered Legolas.

Will nodded and went back to Elizabeth, who was saddling Wistan. Jack with Nithhad and Anamaria with Brego were nearby. Merry stood beside Anamaria's horse, looking uncertain and sorrowful about the situation.

"What did they say?" Elizabeth asked. Jack, Anamaria, and Merry lifted their heads in interest.

"Apparently they believe that the Nazgûl is going to Isengard. Sauron still believes that Saruman has the stone, and that in Saruman's keeping is the Ring-bearer himself. Sauron will soon learn that he is wrong, and we cannot be out in the open when he does."

Jack seemed grimmer than usual. "I thought those bloody Black Riders were gone and done with."

"So did I," said Anamaria darkly, "but it looks like they're immortal or something."

"Did Legolas know what it was flying?" Merry asked. "I've never seen such a creature before."

"Just some sort of animal from Mordor," Will said with a shrug.

"We are lucky they didn't have those things when we left the Shire," Elizabeth said with a shudder. "We would have been doomed; it was going so fast."

Jack only nodded and clutched his pistol for a moment. "If we're in luck, those dragon-things will be just as mortal as their old horses," he said, a mischievous light in his eyes. "I'd like to see those Black Riders survive a fall that long."

"Knowing our luck, they would," Anamaria replied.

They spoke no more as they finished clearing camp. Once all was set, Merry and the group from the Caribbean joined Legolas and Gimli, and they rode with Aragorn and the sons of Elrond behind Théoden's group of Rohirrim. Behind them rode the rest of Aragorn's kinsman.

Little was said on the journey to Helm's Deep, and even as the sun rose on the eastern horizon a dark chill lay over the entire company. Merry was unusually somber without his cousin; it was the first time they had been parted on this journey, and he could not help but worry about poor Pippin. He knew that he was in good hands with Gandalf, but it was a dangerous world out there and the younger hobbit was still a bit naive, even after his experiences throughout the last few months.

Anamaria let Merry alone with his thoughts, for she was preoccupied with her own. She had little rest the night before, and her wounds from the warg skirmish a few days back were especially bothering her again at their current pace. Her arm was healing nicely, but her ankle was throbbing incessantly and she was not sure how long she could keep going like this.

Jack had noticed his shipmate's limp as the company had prepared the horses; he was no dotard and knew that their pace was taking a toll on her. He had seen her wounds first-hand, and he remembered the fear he felt when he saw her body under her old horse. Fear. He could not remember the last time in the Caribbean that he had feared for one of his companion's lives when it had no direct affect on his health. Here in Middle-earth though, in a mere six months, he had gone from being completely apathetic to, well, caring a little about what happened to those he knew and considered friends.

It was an odd change, and even as he rode swiftly to Helm's Deep, he was not quite sure if this change was for the better or for the worse.

Will could not keep his thoughts away from Elizabeth. He silently embraced her touch as she leaned against his back and clutched his waist, but this joy was shadowed by knowledge of the future. He knew that there were more battles to be fought before this was over, and he could not stand thinking that she could be hurt, or worse. She would not be dissuaded from joining the battles, but he would do his best to keep her from danger, even if she hated him for it.

Elizabeth, who could not see her husband's face and therefore could not guess his thoughts, kept her eyes on Aragorn, who rode beside her and Will. She could see that he was troubled about something, though she could not even begin to imagine what he was worried about now. She guessed that he shared some of her own worries, about Pippin and Gandalf, and Frodo and Sam- but she also knew that he was destined to be something great, and felt that there was something more that she was not guessing.

It was early morning when the large group reached Helm's Deep. Most of the refugees from Edoras had already left to go back home, and many of the refugees from areas around the capitol had departed as well. There were still many citizens from the Westfold near Isengard, however, that feared the wizard would send more danger their way, and were not prepared to leave until the War was over.

The evidence of the battle fought just a couple night's past was not lost on Merry and Elizabeth. "A great battle indeed!" she said to Will. "You did not exaggerate."

"And the battles to come will be greater still," he said. She only nodded.

When they came to the Hornburg, most of the Fellowship sought rest. Before Anamaria slept, however, Aragorn tended to her ankle and arm.

"Your arm is healing well," the Dúnadan said. "Your ankle, however, cannot take more of this hard riding. You need to rest abed for a few days."

"I can't rest when there are battles to be fought," she argued. "You won't see me lying about while others are out there dying." He did not argue with her, but Aragorn knew that if she did not rest, her wound would only become worse, and he made his disapproval clear with one look.

The Ranger also checked upon Will before he rested. He did not forget the head wound the man received during the battle of Helm's Deep, even if the young man now refused to keep a bandage around his head.

"It is healing well," the Dúnadan said. "You were very lucky."

"As were you," the other man pointed out. "I wasn't the only one blasted from the wall, and that was after you had come back from the dead."

Aragorn only grimaced. Already he had received a sound scolding from his cousin and his foster brothers concerning his fall from the warg fight, and all three often checked upon him to see if he was well. To his relief, his wounds were healing well and he had no permanent damage from the skirmish with the warg riders or the battle at Helm's Deep.

And finally, before he allowed the Captain to rest, Aragorn checked on his old arrow wound he received on the Anduin; while it seemed it happened ages ago, in truth, less than two weeks had passed since the orcs had attacked them in the boats.

"All that is left is a scar," he said with satisfaction. Jack nodded and rearranged his tunic when Aragorn added, "Speaking of scars, there is a strange one upon your arm." Aragorn nodded to Jack's right arm, covered now by his sleeve. "It looks as if you were branded."

Jack's lip twitched into what could be called a smile, if that. "Every man has his bad days, mate." He was not going to talk about the "P" that marked him as a pirate to Aragorn out of all people.

The other man said nothing and only stared at him keenly with his grey eyes. Jack returned the stare evenly. Finally, Aragorn said, "And what of the tattoo above it?" The younger man seemed surprised by the Ranger's knowledge of the name, for Jack had yet to see any tattoos on anyone else in his time in Middle-earth. "I have traveled far in my life," explained Aragorn, "and I first saw this practice in the deep South, beyond what is marked on most maps. They are not uncommon among some of the southern sailors, either."

"Aye, sailors have always appreciated the art," said Jack. "As long as I can remember, as is. As for the design, it is a sparrow. Does it not fit?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose," the other man replied, but the look he was giving Jack did not sit well with the Captain at all.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," the sailor said as he stood up, "I now have proper time to redo my beard."

"It has grown back very fast," Aragorn noted. "I am afraid I do not understand the reason you decorate both your hair and beard in the arrangements you have, however."

"Few do." With a grin, Jack bowed in his overly lavish and slightly mocking way to the other man and left the room, a hand already digging into one of his many pockets for his beads. He would never forgive the Uruk who cut off part of his beard at Amon Hen; it had not grown back yet all the way, but at the length it was now, he could finally actually do something with it.

Aragorn watched the man leave, and then contemplated about resting himself. He realized quickly, however, that he would not rest until he finalized his decision about his road.

Elrond's words about the Paths of the Dead as well as Galadriel's prophecy on taking the path that led to the Sea both sat heavily on his mind. He feared to take that road, even if he would tell no one of this fear. It was a dark and dangerous road, and while it would be a shorter route to Minas Tirith, he would only take it if there were no other choices.

He knew, however, that he did not know all of the Enemy's plans, nor did he know how many enemies approached Minas Tirith now. The heir of Elendil did know, however, that there was one way to see all, and that was through the _palantír_.

Aragorn left Jack's small room and quickly headed to his own quarters where the stone lay deep within his saddlebags. He knew that once he looked into the stone his path would be clear before him.

He would reveal himself before the Dark Lord, that he knew well, but if he did not master the _palantír_ and find the right path, then all could be doomed to fail.

And failure was not acceptable.

O0O0O0O

"What was it you were doing up there with the king?" Elizabeth asked Merry after they had eaten. While the time the Company had rested was short, both the small amount of sleep and the food had completely rejuvenated them.

"I pledged my service to him," the hobbit answered. "He named me an esquire of Rohan!"

Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Now why in the world did you go and do that? You'll now have to go and, well, defend him or something! Die for him, even."

"I would die for him," Merry said firmly.

Will glanced at Elizabeth in wonder; Merry was not the same hobbit they had left the Shire with.

Jack only looked at him with pity. "Your head, mate."

"What? It is an honor to serve him!" the hobbit protested. "He is a good man."

"Oh, let off him, Jack," Anamaria cut off her captain with a wave of her hand. "You know nothing of loyalty, you, but it don't mean that others are bereft of it."

"Loyalty? I know all I need to know about loyalty," he claimed. "I'm loyal to me, myself, and my ship. I wouldn't ever let the _Black Pearl_ down."

"Too bad you lost it," Will pointed out with a smirk, "or have you already forgotten that you commandeered the _Dauntless_ when we found you?"

"Commandeered?" Merry looked at Jack with surprise.

"Borrowed," he corrected Will as he smiled down at Merry. Will let the correction go; he had momentarily forgotten that the hobbit with them knew nothing of Jack's less-than-lawful actions of the past. It was something he found himself forgetting more often, for he had become friends with all the members of the Fellowship.

Their conversation was interrupted by a call to Merry, and as one, the group of five turned to see Gamling coming up behind them. "Master Holbytla, the king is ready to make leave," he said. "A pony has been made ready for you."

"Oh yes!" said Merry. "I will be there right away." He turned to his friends with a grin. "I forgot to tell you that we're leaving very soon. The king has given me a pony, Anamaria, so I don't need to bother you anymore."

The woman grinned. "You were no bother, though Brego might be thankful for less weight."

The hobbit laughed. "I hardly weigh anything at all now, not with all the days on the road and little to eat. _Lembas_ isn't all that filling after a while. But enough chatter, I need to grab my bag! You should hurry, too." With that, he waved and hurried to his room.

"Might have been more helpful if he told us sooner," Elizabeth said with a shake of her head. "Thankfully we have little luggage as it is."

"Is Aragorn leaving with Théoden?" Will asked. "I did not see him at lunch, and even if Merry is leaving with the king, I'd rather stick with Aragorn." The others nodded in agreement.

They reached their rooms soon after Merry. "May as well be ready," Anamaria shrugged. "I'll meet you down there." She went to her room, doing her best to hide her limp.

"She's only making it worse," Elizabeth said worriedly as the other woman closed the door behind her. "She should be using a crutch."

"She shouldn't even be up," Jack muttered. The couple looked at him in surprise. "It's true," he argued. "I pulled her out from under her bloody horse; her ankle was the size of a melon."

"Still, she won't be left behind," Elizabeth said.

Jack said nothing in reply, but rather headed to his own room to grab his things. Will and Elizabeth followed him with their gaze for a moment before heading to their own rooms to prepare and leave.

Once all of their belongings had been gathered, the four of them made their way to the stables together and quickly saddled up. Elizabeth had been given a horse, Inwer, a quiet gelding that she fell in love with right away. Once all was prepared, they met on a large green turf outside of the keep where already a great company was gathered to leave with the king.

They headed to the small company of Dúnedain where they expected to see Aragorn and the others, but to their surprise they, were not there. "Where did they head off to?" Will muttered under his breath.

"They haven't left, at the least," Elizabeth said, nodding to Aragorn's horse that stood near the Grey Company.

Rather than head over to Aragorn's kinsmen ("Thirty Aragorn's is just a bit too many for my comfort," Jack argued), they went over to Merry, who was sitting on a pony right by Théoden.

"Where's Aragorn?" Will asked Merry.

"He's still inside," the hobbit replied. "Lord Éomer is looking for him." He had just finished saying those words when the young Rohir along with Aragorn, Halbarad, the sons of Elrond, and Legolas and Gimli exited the gate and came to them. All of their eyes, however, stayed on Aragorn; his complexion was unusually pale and he looked weary to the point of being ill. The Ranger did not say anything to his companions nor acknowledge their questioning eyes as he turned first to the king.

"I am troubled in mind, lord," said Aragorn to Théoden.

"Is that what he calls it?" Jack muttered to Anamaria.

"He looks like he's going to pass out, troubled mind or not," she muttered back.

As they had spoken quietly with one another, Aragorn continued speaking cryptically with the king until he asked how long it would take them to ride to Dunharrow.

"Before the sunset of the third day we should arrive there," answered Éomer for his liege. "We cannot make more speed if the full strength of Rohan is to be gathered."

Aragorn looked troubled by this answer and fell silent. "Three days, and even then the muster of Rohan will only have just begun. It indeed cannot be hastened." He looked up to Théoden, and it seemed to those around him that his face was slightly less troubled, as if he had come to a decision. "Then by your leave, lord, I must seek a new path for myself and my kindred. We will ride east by the swiftest way, and take the Paths of the Dead."

"The Paths of the Dead!" Théoden said, and surprised those who did not know him well by trembling.

"The Paths of the Dead," Will repeated quietly to his companions from the Caribbean. "Sounds like fun."

"Aragorn, my friend," Éomer said, despair lacing his words, "I had hoped that we should ride to war together, but if you seek the Paths of the Dead, then our parting is come, and it is little likely that we shall ever meet again under the Sun."

"Lots of fun," Jack said in agreement to Will. "I cannot wait."

As they continued talking, Elizabeth frowned as she glanced at the Rohirrim around them. They seemed generally frightened. "I wonder," she began, "if these paths are not unlike the cursed crew we dealt with."

"The undead, eh?" Anamaria said with a smirk. "If that's all, then, I don't see what we have to be worried about. Nothing is much worse than Barbossa's men."

"Besides," Jack said, drawing his pistol and twirling it on his finger, "if we're lucky, there'll be some sort of curse that will allow me to become undead once more. Interesting experience, that, and one I wouldn't mind trying again."

"Barbossa did not like it that much," Elizabeth pointed out. "I remember well his words about not being able to taste food or drink, and we all know how you and rum are long lost lovers."

Jack looked grim. "The lack of rum in this forsaken land has me little pleased, love. Without it here, I think I can go about eating nothing else as a walking skeleton."

"A walking skeleton?" Legolas suddenly said. The four turned from their conversation to see the king and his nephew, Merry, Aragorn, and the rest looking at them with mixed expressions.

"Forget I said anything," Jack replied. "Did you need something? It's rude to interrupt a private conversation."

"You're one to talk," Elizabeth muttered.

Aragorn, despite his grey pallor, smiled at the remark. "Legolas and Gimli have already decided to stay with me," he said, "and Merry, as the king's esquire, will go with the Rohirrim. King Théoden has graciously allowed any of my company to come with him if they do not wish to go with me on the Paths of the Dead, and so you must make a decision."

"Already made, mate," Jack said, leaning back in his saddle. "We'll be going with you."

Aragorn looked slightly surprised. "You are not bound by any oath to follow me-"

"Last thing I was thinking about was any oath," the man interrupted. "We just figured you may want some help from some who have experience with dead people. Savvy?"

"That is what these paths were named for, right?" Will asked. The others nodded. "Ah, we'll be fine then." He smiled.

Aragorn looked troubled by their leisure. "I do not believe you four understand the dangers of this road-"

Elizabeth bristled in annoyance. "Aragorn," she interrupted him. "When you've been spirited away from your own bedroom, held prisoner on some God-forsaken ship, and spilled blood to lift some curse off a load of dead people, you know what dangers to expect from dead people!" She folded her arms and looked at him as if daring him to contradict her.

Halbarad was torn between anger and shock at the woman's audacity towards his chieftain, but the others were torn between disbelief, confusion, and amusement. Théoden took this break in the conversation to announce his departure, and soon the king, Éomer, Merry, and a large gathering of Rohirrim from Helm's Deep left, leaving behind the remainder of the Fellowship, the sons of Elrond, and the Dúnedain.

"That sounds like quite a story," finally said Legolas with a small smile. "You must tell it to us."

"One day," she said with a shrug. "It's a long story."

"It is what brought those two lovebirds together," Jack said with a knowing smirk. Will only reached out to his wife to grab her hand.

"Speaking of stories," said Gimli, "why is it, Aragorn, that when we first came upon you that you were so pale! Even now your skin is not its normal color." The others of the Fellowship looked to the man questioningly.

The Ranger nodded. "I will tell you, Gimli, and all of you, while I eat. Come!" He gave a few last parting words to Halbarad, Elladan, and Elrohir before heading inside, but once there he headed straight to the dining hall to eat. The others of the Fellowship followed and waited patiently for him to finish his meal.

Once done, he sat still for a moment. His companions did not allow him long to brood in silence.

"Well, tell us!" Anamaria demanded. "What happened?"

Aragorn glanced at her and a small smile came to his grey face. "A grim struggle on my part," he replied. "I have looked into the Stone of Orthanc, my friends."

The astonishment was clear on all of their faces at the news, and Gimli looked absolutely horrified. "You looked in the accursed stone!" he exclaimed. "Did you say aught to him?"

"And if you did, was he as terrifying as everyone makes him to be?" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow.

The small smile disappeared. "I saw him, but spoke no words," said the Dúnadan, "and yes, Jack, he is terrible to behold. I knew my peril when I decided to use the Stone, but I judged that I had the might to withstand him. My strength was enough- barely."

He drew a deep breath and passed a hand over his brow before continuing. "It was a bitter struggle, one that I will not speak much about. Just know that he beheld me, in other guise than you see me here, and he knew me for who I am. I showed him the sword of Elendil re-forged, and I deem that to know that I lived with that blade was a blow to his heart."

"Blow to his heart is all well and good," Will interrupted, "but something else happened up there to change your path from Théoden's, surely?"

"Patience, my friend," said Aragorn. "Something else did indeed happen. As I said, I managed to hold onto my strength, and with that I wretched the _palantír_ to my own will. I have learned many things. A grave peril comes unlooked-for upon Gondor from the South that will draw off great strength from the defense of Minas Tirith. If it is not countered soon, the City will be lost within the next ten days."

"Wonderful," Jack leaned back in his chair. "I love good news."

Legolas only shot the pirate a look before turning his attention back to Aragorn. "Is that why, then, you plan on taking the Paths of the Dead? It is the only way to reach the eastern border of Gondor in time." The man nodded in confirmation.

"Even if we do get there in time, we are few," Elizabeth argued. "We won't make much of a difference, your men there or not, Aragorn."

"We will not," he agreed, "but in the days of Arvedui, the last king of the North-kingdom, a seer named Malbeth spoke these words concerning the Paths of the Dead:

_"Over the land there lies a long shadow,_  
_westward reaching wings of darkness._  
_The Tower trembles; to the tombs of kings_  
_doom approaches. The Dead awaken;_  
_for the hour is come for the oathbreakers;_  
_at the Stone of Erech they shall stand again_  
_and hear there a horn in the hills ringing._  
_Whose shall the horn be? Who shall call them_  
_from the grey twilight, the forgotten people?_  
_The heir of him to whom the oath they swore._  
_From the North shall he come, need shall drive him:_  
_he shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead."_

"Let me guess," Anamaria started once he was finished reciting the prophecy. "These dead people swore some oath to an ancestor of yours."

"To Isildur the son of Elendil they swore an oath," confirmed Aragorn, "and when they were called upon to fight, they would not, for they had worshipped Sauron in the Dark Years. And so Isildur cursed them to never rest until they fulfilled their oath."

"And so to the Stone of Erech you will go and summon them to fulfill their oath," said Legolas. The man only smiled grimly in reply.

"Well, like we said," Jack said with a twist in his lips, "we have a little experience with dead people."

"You failed to mention, Aragorn," Will said, "what the threat to the south of Minas Tirith was. What comes to the City?"

His eyes hardened as he said, "Upon the Anduin sails a great fleet bearing Corsairs of Umbar."

The four from the Caribbean exchanged glances with one another.

"Pirates," Anamaria said with a small nod, shooting a fleeting look at her captain.

Jack's lips curled once more into what could be considered a smile. "We have a little experience with pirates, too."


	33. Rising Tensions

Chapter 33: Rising Tensions

It was just past sunset when the Fellowship and the Dúnedain reached Dunharrow, where both Théoden was mustering a large company of Rohirrim and where lay the only road that led to the Paths of the Dead.

In charge of the mustering before Théoden and his men arrived was Éowyn, and she was there to greet the company.

"Welcome, my lords, to Dunharrow," she said. Her tone was the same as when she had first met them: cold and distant. "Word was sent that your company would be coming ahead of the king's, though I will say that I am surprised that you are here so soon. You must have ridden hard."

"We have," replied Aragorn, "and harder still we shall before our deeds are done. But first we shall rest here tonight."

"That is well," the blonde woman nodded. "Tents have been made ready for you, and when you are ready, we shall sup in the large center pavilion."

The man nodded and he and most of the Company left, but Anamaria, with Elizabeth and Will, lingered.

"I am glad to see you again, Éowyn," the dark woman said with a bright, genuine smile. The other woman's mask fell and she returned the smile. "It seems you've been busy the last few days."

"We have," she confirmed. "While scouts left Helm's Deep at King Théoden's command to find all able-bodied warriors, I left with the refugees back to Edoras and then came here as quick as I was able and have seen to the organization of the camp. It has grown larger every day, and I imagine by the time the king comes with his own company it will have grown even more."

"Do you know when the king and Éomer will ride out to Minas Tirith?" Will asked.

"Soon, very soon," she said, her eyes darkening from the thought. "He would not have ordered a muster from Helm's Deep if he was not preparing to leave soon. He knows that Mundburg is in trouble."

"Mundburg?" Elizabeth asked with a frown.

"That is what we call Minas Tirith in our tongue," she confirmed, looking at Elizabeth with a slight frown. "Forgive me, we have not been introduced."

"Oh!" Will looked slightly sheepish. "This is my wife, Elizabeth. She was one of our companions captured by the Uruk-hai."

"A terrible experience, to be sure," said Éowyn, looking at the woman with a stoic expression, the mask returned. Elizabeth met her gaze evenly. "I am afraid I am keeping you from refreshing yourselves. I shall speak with you more at supper."

"Definitely," Anamaria said. The other woman nodded and walked away.

"She's very-" Elizabeth hesitated as she searched for a word.

"Cold. Distant. Aloof," Will supplied. "You get used to it."

"She gets better as you get to know her," Anamaria argued. "I spent a rather miserable night with her at Helm's Deep and she softens up a bit after a while. Decent woman, and not afraid to stand up for herself, her. If you show her you aren't afraid of a sword, she'll be a bit friendlier."

"I prefer the bow, you know," Elizabeth rebutted with a laugh. "Still, I'll take your word for it."

"Why was she so unfriendly towards Aragorn?" Will asked. "When I last saw them together before the battle, they were on friendly terms."

Anamaria looked slightly uncomfortable by the question, but answered, "Before the battle at Helm's Deep, when she and I were together, I told her about Arwen."

Elizabeth looked surprised. "She has feelings for Aragorn?"

"Had," the other woman corrected. "It seems she's over him- or, at least, is doing her best to not let her affection arise again."

Will glanced at the tent where the blonde woman had gone into with pity. "Unrequited love. That is how I spent many years watching Elizabeth; it is difficult."

His wife grasped his hand. "Not requited anymore. As it is, I do not doubt that she will find another, if she allows herself. But let's now clean up before we sup; I'll take whatever opportunities I have to do so."

Anamaria only snorted in response, but followed the two to the group of tents that held their companions to prepare for dinner.

About half an hour later, the Grey Company and the Fellowship sat down with Éowyn for supper, the Rohir making a point not to sit beside Aragorn, and rather finding company between Anamaria and Elizabeth. The company eagerly dined on the food supplied, for they knew that their ride to the banks of the Anduin would be long and meals would be short and meager.

"I hope your lodgings are to your liking," Éowyn said to the members of the Fellowship who were near her at the table. "Other accommodations can be made, if need be."

"Do not trouble yourself with us," said Aragorn. "We shall be here for only one night, and if we may, we will break our fast tomorrow before setting out at first light."

Éowyn was confused and not exactly pleased with this answer. "You will not, then, wait for the king?"

"No," he replied. "Tomorrow I shall ride to the Paths of the Dead."

She visibly paled at his response and turned to all of them in shock. "Is it your errand, then, to seek death?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes," Jack replied, leaning back against his chair casually. "We are, after all, looking for dead folk. Paths of the Dead sound like as good a place as any to look for them."

"That is madness!" she argued. "Your swords are needed in war, and yet you go into the shadows where the living do not pass. You should stay here and wait for my uncle and brother and ride with them into battle." Her gaze landed on Aragorn, and a flicker of emotion quickly passed over her eyes before she became stoic once more.

"It is not madness, my lady," Aragorn answered, "for it is the path appointed to me. All those that come with me go with their free will, and if they do not wish to, they may ride with the Rohirrim. But I, at the least, shall take the path."

"And we," Anamaria added, indicating to herself, her captain, and the couple, "aren't afraid of a few spooks. We'll be going."

Éowyn said nothing in reply and the conversation ended, but unnoticed to everyone else, Jack and Will shot each other a look at Anamaria's statement.

If they had any say, not everyone would be going.

O0O0O0O

Will was unnaturally silent as they headed back to the cluster of tents that held their company. Elizabeth noticed this, but said nothing in front of the others; she would only ask if he continued to brood for much longer.

Inside of their tent, when he did not speak his mind or reveal his concerns, Elizabeth decided to try to make conversation with him as he sharpened his sword.

"The meal was good," she started. Will only nodded distractedly in reply. His wife held back her annoyance and rather continued, "I imagine we won't be eating that well on the road- we won't have many chances to cook, if any, what with the pace we'll be going. All our meals will be rather rushed, I suppose."

The man lifted his head slightly from his work, but did not turn to face her. "I won't," he said.

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"I will be rushed- you will not."

An initial rush of anger came, but she held herself back. He surely could not be indicating what she thought he was indicating. "Will, clarify yourself. What do you mean?"

"What I mean," he said after a pause, "is that you will not be coming with us."

The anger came, but she kept her voice calm as she asked, "And who made this decision?"

"I did."

The cool, unassuming answer irked her greatly and she could not control all of her anger when she spoke next. "I did not realize, Will, that you are my caretaker!"

"I am your husband and it is my duty to protect you. You are not coming," he said. He went back to sharpening his blade.

"Oh, no, I don't think this conversation is over!" Elizabeth said sharply. She went to her feet and stood in front of her husband. "I was just reunited with you a couple days ago; I am not being separated from you again so soon!"

"We will be reunited after the War," he answered, not looking at her as he continued his work.

"Reunited after- oh, do not think you can keep me out of all the fighting!" she cried. "I fully intend on partaking in it. I have been in this Fellowship since the beginning, and I have no plans on leaving when I am perfectly capable of fighting."

"If you are so capable," Will started, finally looking his wife in the eye, "how did you manage to get yourself captured?"

"That is a low blow, William Turner," she snarled. "Remember that two warriors more capable than I died that day! Or are you so forgetful?"

"I will never forget Boromir or Gibbs," the man snapped, jumping to his own feet and looking down on his wife. "I will never forget, either, how often I wondered if you were also going to be among the dead! I cannot let it happen!"

A sting of pity hit Elizabeth, but her already boiling anger quickly consumed it. "And I often wondered the same!" she hissed. "Nonetheless, I would never, ever, think about holding you back from your companions due to fear! Don't you dare presume that you can do the same to me."

"We will see." Quickly sheathing his sword, Will brushed past his wife angrily and left the tent. She was tempted to follow him and shout angrily at him, but her sense of control came over her and the woman settled for a moan of frustration before collapsing onto her bedroll in fury and frustration.

O0O0O0O

"Anamaria," a soft call from the outside of her tent forced her from her thoughts.

"Jack? Is that you?" she asked. He poked his head inside the tent with a toothy grin in response. "What, did Elizabeth teach you manners or something?" she scoffed.

Rather than rebutting, as was his wont, he studied her silently. Her arm was well healed, but her ankle, well, he had seen earlier that she could still not walk without a limp, and her stubborn refusal to use a crutch only made it worse. On top of all that, the hard riding from the last few days had completely taken the wound off its normal healing course.

He liked his shipmate. She was an interesting woman, and one that he respected, even if he did not admit it to her. The last thing he wanted to see was for her to lose her leg from an infection- or, worse, die from it. There would be no rest for the wound on the long journey to the Anduin; Aragorn had been quite clear on that.

His decision was made.

Anamaria's amused expression quickly turned to a combination of suspicion and concern at Jack's lack of reply, as if she was unsure as to what to make of him. "Ey, what's wrong?" she half-snapped.

"You aren't coming with us," the man said.

"What?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You heard me. You aren't coming with us."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is," he started sarcastically, but then calmed. "What I mean is is that we'll be riding nonstop for days. Your leg can't handle that."

"I think I know what my leg can and can't handle, Jack Sparrow," she bit back. "I'm coming."

"You can hardly walk," he pointed out. "You're staying behind. Savvy?"

"I. Am. Not," she stressed out every word, as if daring him to argue with her. He took the dare.

"Do not make me order you as your captain," he warned.

"You wouldn't do that," she smirked, but her confidence was faltering.

"Try me," was his only response.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, and then closed it. "I- you would not!" she repeated, her smirk all but disappeared. He said nothing in reply, but his face made it very clear that he was completely serious. "Since when did you care about my health?" she snarled. "I'll look to me own affairs!"

"When you jeopardize my interests, mate," he replied. "Do not cross me." With that, he left the tent.

'_Interests? Since when was he interested in the welfare of the world_?' Anamaria stared at the opening of the tent in shock. When the woman finally recovered her senses, she stood and limped over to the entrance, tied the opening shut, and then collapsed onto her bedroll. She buried her head into the pillow, not allowing the unshed tears to fall.

O0O0O0O

Will did not care where his feet led him; he needed to walk off his anger before he returned to his tent to try to convince Elizabeth to stay behind.

Oh, who was he kidding? Even after that, she would never stay behind at his request, and would only laugh if he tried to command her to stay. There had to be some way to make her stay. Perhaps he could hide her saddle somewhere... but no, Éowyn would just give her another.

There had to be a way.

"You seem deep in thought, Will."

The young man nearly jumped in surprise from the unexpected voice. Looking up, he saw Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli right in front of him.

"You would have walked straight into us had I not spoken," Legolas said with a soft smile. His smile faltered, however, when he saw the turmoil within the man's eyes. "What is it that troubles you so, my friend?"

"It is no-" he started, about to wave off the matter, but stopped; perhaps they could help him come up with something that would make his wife stay behind. "It is Elizabeth," the man admitted.

"Is she unwell?" Aragorn asked, concern etched on his features.

"Not exactly," the man confessed. "She refuses to listen to my plea to stay behind."

"Stay behind?" Gimli frowned. "From what I remember, she was very adamant concerning her experiences with the dead- do you fear that the Paths of the Dead will be a point of no return? I do not blame you, lad- I am rather sure that we will not be making it out alive-"

"No, no Gimli," Will shook his head. "It is not the Paths of the Dead that concerns me, but rather the battles that are sure to follow. She has never fought in a full-scale battle, and the thousands of men that are supposed to follow Théoden to Minas Tirith only shows me just how great this battle will be. She cannot be there!"

"I understand your concerns," Aragorn started, "but she has seen battle before, which is more experience than many of the men who will ride out with Théoden have."

"I do not care!" he rebutted. "Elizabeth is not a part of Théoden's army; she is my wife and does not belong in battle!"

"She does not agree with you," Legolas stated knowingly.

"It does not matter," he argued. "She cannot go! I cannot bear the thought of losing her!" He turned away and put a hand over his eyes to try to keep his emotions in check. The other three exchanged glances with one another.

"Nonetheless, you cannot tie her down and keep her away," Gimli muttered in what sounded like sympathy. "She is a strong lass."

"No, I cannot tie her down," Will agreed, but just as he said it, an idea came to him. "I cannot tie her down, but I can keep her here! Aragorn, you are a healer- do you know how to make different potions of sorts?"

The older man frowned. "I can make healing draughts, but I will not give her something that makes her ill, if that is what you want."

"Don't be ridiculous- I want her well and out of harm's way, not sick. No, I need a sleeping draught." Will's eyes were bright with hope as he looked at Aragorn.

The Ranger looked unsure. "You want her to be asleep when we leave."

"Yes."

"Deceitfulness does not become you, Will."

"Would you want Arwen in the war we are about to face?" the younger man rebutted. "Would you not do anything in your power to stop her from witnessing the atrocities? From possibly becoming hurt- dying, even?"

Aragorn exhaled slowly, giving the man no response. After a long moment, he wordlessly drew a small pouch from his belt, and quickly rummaged through it until he found a small leaf. "Crush this into a cup of water," he said quietly.

Will took the leaf with obvious gratitude, almost missing the dwarf's words. "You are making a mistake, lad." Legolas nodded silently in agreement.

"She will be angry with me," he admitted. "But I will gladly live with her anger for the rest of my years if it means that she lives."

"None of us are guaranteed to perish," Legolas quietly countered.

"And none of us are guaranteed to live," Will countered back. "I will not see her risk her life. I will not relive those hours that we hunted her when she was in the hands of the Uruk-hai. I will not see her risk her life needlessly. She means too much to me." With that, he left them, the herb cradled in his hand.

"Why did you give that to him?" Legolas asked Aragorn incredulously.

The man was silent for a moment. "Because I would do the same, were I in his position," he said quietly. "Arwen has never been in a large battle, despite her skills. I could not bear to see her in war and would do all in my power to shield her from it." With that, Aragorn left them. He went into his tent and spoke to no others for the rest of the night.

O0O0O0O

When Will returned to his tent, a cup of water in his hands, his wife was asleep. He watched her form quietly for a moment, wondering how in the world he was so lucky as to call this fair creature his wife. He would let no harm befall her, never again. This would make sure of it.

He gently shook her awake, and she blinked, still half-asleep. "Will," she recognized him even in her drowsiness, and a small smile formed on her features.

A pang of guilt seized his heart as she looked at him; her eyes were filled with complete trust. Could he truly do this?

Before he started second-guessing himself, the man said, "Drink this," and gently coaxed her mouth open. She obeyed and drank, her state of drowsiness letting her forget any arguments or concerns she had with her husband. The woman soon drank the whole cup down, and Will let her fall gently down on her bedroll again. Within a minute, she was asleep once more.

He sighed as he put the cup down and made for his own bedroll. He knew that she would hate him for a long time for doing this to her, but it was for the best.

He would never be able to live with himself if he had allowed her to go to battle and she died. He simply could not let that happen.

O0O0O0O

It was a cold dawn when the Grey Company and five members of the Fellowship made ready to ride out. None of the other Rohirrim rose to see them off, for they feared the road that they would travel and dared not to come too close to it for such a foolhardy errand. The only one that stood to see them away was Éowyn; Anamaria and Elizabeth were nowhere to be found.

"Will your other companions, then, not be joining us?" Halbarad asked his chieftain. Aragorn only shook his head, and the man was glad; war was no place for women, no matter how bold and courageous they may be. And the battles to come the next few days would be some of the greatest and deadliest battles of the Age.

Éowyn said nothing about the absence of Anamaria and Elizabeth, but rather turned to Aragorn one last time to convince him away from his path. "You and the men who follow you would be better suited in the company of the King of Rohan. Please reconsider your path."

"I cannot, lady," he said. "Time is of essence, and this path is the only one I will tread to Minas Tirith. Farewell!" He kissed her hand and sprang upon his horse, missing the flicker of emotion that momentarily broke her stoic expression. She was still as she watched them off, and did not leave until the last of the company was around the corner and out of sight.


	34. Moving Forward

The part relaying Aragorn and Company's time in the Paths of the Dead greatly follows the book. Some of the dialogue is pulled directly from there, mostly because speeches about oaths and the like are beyond my skill.

* * *

Chapter 34: Moving Forward

"That foul, cold-hearted bastard!"

Anamaria broke out of her sulky expression to raise her eyebrows in surprise at her companion's outburst. "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that."

Elizabeth only glared at her before continuing her rant. "I cannot believe he would be so cruel as to leave me behind! I cannot believe that he managed to pull it off! I am not as light a sleeper as Aragorn, of course, but even I would have awoken to all the sounds of preparation they must have made before they left. You woke from the noise, did you not, Anamaria?"

"I did," she said shortly, only half-listening to the other woman's ranting as she swam in her own misery.

"Then why did you not wake me?" Elizabeth demanded. "How could you just sit there, knowing that I wished to go and not-"

"Don't take yer anger out on me; I was left behind too, y' know," the dark-haired woman snapped. The small part of Elizabeth that was not burning with anger noticed that the other woman lapsed into her old speech habits- habits that had slowly died away during their time in Middle-earth- when she was angry. "Besides, I didn't bother to see them off- I didn't know you were still here until ye came by screaming up a storm."

"I have good reason to be screaming up a storm," she shot back defensively. "There is no reason I should have slept in, and there is no good reason as to why I have been left behind! I told Will that I was going whether he liked it or not, and yet he obviously did something to me!"

Anamaria, who was still laying on her bedroll, shrugged. "Maybe he knocked you out o' something."

"Don't be ridiculous, he wouldn't ever hit me," Elizabeth waved the suggestion off, but she then raised her head in sudden realization. "Unless... surely that was just a dream..." She swiftly turned and sprang out of the tent. Anamaria only grunted and turned her back to the tent opening. She had no real desire to listen to the other woman complain anymore; Elizabeth still hadn't even bothered inquiring as to why _she_ was not with the others, too locked up in her melodrama with her husband. She _really_ did not want to listen to her any longer, and hoped that she would go away for a while.

To her chagrin, she did not. But a moment later the woman came back, even more furious than before. In her hand she held a tin cup. "Smell this," she demanded, sticking the cup into Anamaria's face.

"Gah!" she yelled in protest, turning away from her. "I smell it, I smell it! No need to stick the damn thing in me face, you wench!"

Elizabeth ignored her comment. "He drugged me! My husband had the audacity to _drug_ me! I can only imagine where he found... Aragorn! Aragorn _gave him drugs_ to keep me asleep! How dare they! I swear the next time I see them, husband or not, heir to a bloody throne or not, I am going to kill them both! They will have to kill me to prevent it, those damned bastards!"

The woman continued ranting for a couple more minutes until Anamaria finally reached the end of her patience. "Look, you stupid girl," she snarled, "if you haven't noticed, ye weren't the only one left behind. I'm here too! Now why don't you go and moan to someone else and leave me to me own misery!" With that, she turned around and spoke no further.

She bit back the angry retort that immediately came and instead turned as if to leave. She hesitated and glanced back at the other woman lying down, back turned towards her. Her posture was stiff, but Elizabeth instinctively knew that her companion felt just as miserable as she did.

She pushed her anger towards Will and the others aside for a moment and willed herself to calm down. After a moment of silence in the tent, she started quietly, "You are injured, though."

"I can ride well enough," she snapped, but the answer was half-hearted. "Well, I can certainly endure a few rough days," she added.

"Maybe he asked you to stay behind because he cares about your well-being," Elizabeth tried to say as gently as possible.

Anamaria turned around, disbelief written all over her features. "And what do you think was Will's motivation for drugging you, eh? Spite? No, he did it because he loves ye, you idiot. He is so passionately in love with you that it's almost disgusting, and that love made him lose what little sense he had. He would die a million times for you and all ye can do is call 'im a bastard." She turned around once more. "Most women would kill for such a man," she muttered so quietly that Elizabeth almost did not catch it.

She heard the slight longing in the other woman's voice, and her eyes widened in surprise. "You are not in love, are you?" She quickly went through the list of men they knew and found only one man that could even _possibly_ fit with that longing. "It's not Jack, is it?"

The other woman turned around again, this time in shock. "Hell no!" she cried. "Where did you get that mad idea? Granted, he's more sufferable now than he was in the Caribbean, but I'd shoot myself in the leg before calling him anything more than 'captain'. His only true woman is the sea, and always shall be. Nonetheless," she admitted, "being here in this world has shown me that there are decent men, and that men like those in Tortuga aren't as common in the rest of the world- or at least in this world. Men like Aragorn, or old Boromir, or even Éowyn's brother, whatever his name is-"

"Éomer."

"Yea, right, him. They're good men, and there seems to be a decent supply of them in these parts. Settling down doesn't seem as such a bad idea as it did when Tortuga's finest were the only option."

Elizabeth nodded, a small smile on her face. "After all this is over, I wish to settle down someplace with Will." At the thought of Will, her face contorted with disgust and she dropped the cup that she was still holding, a dark frown upon her features. "Never mind about him, I will see him in due time." She sat down, her frown softening as her thoughts went elsewhere. "But, speaking of settling down..." She hesitated, and Anamaria encouraged her to continue with a raised brow and expectant gaze. "Do you think we'll make it back to the Caribbean _to_ settle down?"

The dark woman snorted half-heartedly. "Assuming we win this war," she began, and then hesitated. "If we win, do you really want to go back?"

"Well, of course, my father is there," Elizabeth started, but her voice died. Anamaria nodded knowingly.

"You may have your old man, but I have nothing there. I joined Jack's crew after the whole deal with Barbossa, and the ship was my home. There was some plunder, of course, but... well, after all I've been through these last few months, that plunder doesn't seem as great as it once was. As stupid as it sounds, I've had more happiness from these battles won here with no plunder than any battles that brought riches back home. Besides, there's no guarantee that we'll be able to get back."

"That is true," she muttered. "I suppose living here would not be bad at all; perhaps Lord Elrond would allow me to stay in Rivendell."

"Minas Tirith wouldn't be bad, either," Anamaria said. "I saw a painting of it back in Rivendell and it looked amazing. Aragorn is supposed to be king of it, too, if all goes according to plan."

"Of course," Elizabeth nodded. "Boromir spoke often about the city and seemed to love it. And Aragorn would let us stay there- if I don't kill him first," she muttered darkly.

"Bah, don't think about them," Anamaria commented sourly. "I'm starved. Let's get a bite to eat." She pushed herself into a sitting position and cautiously pulled herself to her feet, her balance shifted to her uninjured leg.

"Look," the other woman started, "they aren't here anymore. You might as well do your leg a favor and use the crutch. It will do it a world of good."

Anamaria muttered under her breath, but at Elizabeth's look, relented and took the crutch with a roll of the eyes. They walked out of the tent to head to the main pavilion where they hoped to find some food and some distraction from their otherwise recurring dismal thoughts.

O0O0O0O

As the Grey Company rode through the mountain pass to reach the Path of the Dead, a dread fell over them. Two of their company, however, thought not about the road ahead of them, but rather the road behind.

A nagging guilt had been plaguing Will ever since he woke that morning to Elizabeth's still form. Her sleep was deep and unnatural, and for half a moment he had contemplated to readying her horse and bringing her along with him until she woke. That thought was quickly banished and he had left his beloved with a simple kiss upon her forehead. He feared, however, that she would not see the reasoning behind his actions.

A fear that he did not yet let enter his heart was that he had made the wrong decision.

Jack, while sorry to see leave his shipmate behind and silent for the first part of the road, soon came to his old self. Whether it was because he had recovered from Anamaria's absence or he was doing it for show was beyond the knowledge of even those who knew him well.

The company passed a few dense, dark fir trees that even Legolas found no comfort in and soon came to a dark opening decorated with strange symbols and cruel-looking caricatures. Jack, who was at the front of the group with Aragorn, Will, and Halbarad, jumped off his very nervous horse and looked the door up and down. "I was expecting something a bit bigger," was his only comment. He shot a side-glance at Nithhad and kept hold of the reins so he would not bolt off.

Will half-heartedly patted Wistan encouragingly; the horse did not seem to register the gesture. "They are very nervous; I don't think they'll go in."

"They will," Elrohir, who had suddenly come to the front, replied.

Halbarad glanced at his chieftain, who had jumped off Roheryn and was staring at the door wordlessly. He shifted his own glance once more to the door and a great dread fell upon him. "This is an evil door," he said, "and I fear my death lies beyond it, but I will dare pass nonetheless."

"Don't be so pessimistic," Jack scolded him, sending Halbarad a meaningful look. "Not very healthy for the company's morale."

Aragorn's kinsman, who was becoming somewhat used to the other man's odd comments and mannerisms, only shot him a sideways glance, but Aragorn's lips slightly twitched. "We must pass," was all he said. "Follow me!" Then with one hand on the hilt of Andúril and the other holding the reins of his steed, the heir of Elendil stepped forward and through the door, and all those present followed him.

In the front of the procession was Aragorn with Elrohir, who bore a torch aloft. Behind them were Halbarad, Jack, and Will, and even the captain was silenced by the sudden rush of chilled air that hit him as he entered. The atmosphere did not keep him silent for long, though.

"Interesting place," he muttered to himself as he glanced at whatever the torchlight illuminated. The captain was fascinated by the fact that, while there were certainly no visible ghosts or walking skeletons, his heart felt as if it wanted to leap out of his throat and murder itself. The feeling was very, very different from what he had experienced with Barbossa's crew- slightly unsettling even to him, but he bore his fear with the usual look of indifference.

Will, too, was surprised by the sudden plunge of deep dread he experienced as he walked through the door, and as he readied his blade for some sort of undead villain to fight, he soon came to the realization that the only thing he had to fight was the unnatural and encompassing terror that had taken a hold of him. He quickly glanced behind him and saw the same fear that he felt reflected in one of the other Ranger's eyes. He was secretly glad that he was not the only one to feel thus, for he could not read Jack or Halbarad's expressions.

After them came the Dúnedain, and at the end of the procession were Legolas, Gimli, and Elladan, holding up another torch. Legolas was completely unaffected by the dread of the dead, for they held no power over the Eldar, and both Elladan and Elrohir, despite their diluted blood, also were not terribly burdened by fear. Gimli, however, had never any encounter with such unnatural occurrences before, and he personally felt that he would drown in the horror that overtook him. He kept walking on, though, for not only his pride and his companions, but also because behind him he began to feel another presence.

They continued for a while, though for how long none could say, for one does not count time in places that the dead live. Jack, however, did not like the unnatural silence at all. "Where are the dead?" he asked, and he was rather disturbed to find that his voice came out much softer than he had intended and that there had been a slight hitch in it. There were few undisputable facts in the world of Captain Jack Sparrow, but one undisputable fact was that his voice certainly did not _hitch_. He was also disturbed to find that, despite the fact that there were at least five others who heard his voice, not one of them actually answered. Another undisputable fact was that _no one_ had the right to ignore Captain Jack Sparrow.

Clearing his throat, he said again, much louder and smoothly, "_Where_ are the dead?"

Will shot Jack a look that was a mix of incredulousness and annoyance, but the only other response from the group was Aragorn holding up a hand to halt. The narrow path they had been following suddenly widened into a great empty space, and there were no walls on either side of them. Elrohir took a couple steps forward and lit the area around, and a sudden gleam to their left caught Aragorn's eye. Silently beckoning his foster brother over, the two took twenty paces to their left. The others, loathe to become even slightly separated from their chieftain and leader of the company, silently followed.

Jack had seen the gleam, too, and was the first to follow them to the source. When he came close, he saw that it was the remains of a richly clad warrior who fell scratching at what looked to be a door. The man eyed the skeleton's gold and rich jewels for a moment, but did not touch them; he remembered well Barbossa and what happened to him when he meddled with haunted treasure.

Besides, it was only a few jewels. He recalled that they were off to find some corsairs, and if these corsairs were worth any of their salt, they would have plunder. Yes, he could wait.

Aragorn did not touch the remains, but rather stared at it thoughtfully for a moment. He said something quietly in Rohirric to the corpse and then suddenly stood and turned to the empty darkness. "Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone of Erech!"

Neither Jack nor Will quite knew what he meant, but his words had an obvious effect. The nearly silent whispers that only those with the keenest ears could hear suddenly became louder and clear to everyone in the company. The whispers were harsh and in a language known by none in that party, yet they seemed agitated and even angry to the fear-stricken mortals. Suddenly the whispers ceased and a chilling blast burst through the cavern, extinguishing their torches and leaving them in utter darkness. Despite the skills of the Dúnedain and the elves, they could not be rekindled.

Of the remaining march there is little to tell. The Grey Company remained silent. Everyone there knew that this darkness was a test of their will and to fail it would mean their deaths, and so they spent no energy on conversation, but rather focused all of their attention on getting themselves and their fear-stricken steeds out of the dark path and to the open world once more.

And as they continued their march through the Paths of the Dead, a silent but ever-growing presence followed them.

When they finally reached the end of the path, it was two hours past sunset, yet the fresh air and the bright stars were a great comfort to everyone in the company. It was not a moment after their exit when the silence was broken.

"Where the hell are we?" Jack asked. It was Elrohir who answered.

"We are now in western Gondor, in the area known as the Morthond Vale. Minas Tirith still lies ahead many hundreds of miles east."

"Wasn't that path supposed to be a shortcut of some sort?" Will added, and Elrohir's lips twitched.

"Of some sort, but it served a greater purpose than that. Ask no more questions, you will soon see!"

There was little rest after their emergence from the dark path, for Aragorn spurred them forward to the Stone of Erech. The two from the Caribbean soon discovered that this Morthond Vale was home to quite a few people- people, they soon discovered, were farmers rather than warriors, and these farmers were of the sort that screamed very loud and ran very fast.

As the Grey Company and the remainder of the Fellowship rode down from the mountain, the ghostly presence behind them, and Aragorn at the head, the people of the hills only needed to take one look at Aragorn before they began to cry, "The King of the Dead! The King of the Dead is upon us!"

Once this was discovered, this phrase made this trip the beginning of Captain Jack Sparrow's most tiring, yet most amusing adventure thus far in Middle-earth.

"You are making a wonderful impression upon your people so far, o king!" Jack screamed to Aragorn at the front of the procession. The Ranger pretended not to hear him and kept on riding at the same speed, ignoring the screams of the petrified peasants.

Legolas and Gimli, who had made their way to the front of the procession, overheard this comment. Gimli, who disliked spirits even more than before his trip under the mountain, frowned, but the young elf reacted differently. Legolas smiled at the expense of his old friend, and as he had no fear of the dead, quickly took to the jest. "I am afraid he won't be able to come to this part of Gondor again," he added. "They are too afraid!"

"Perhaps he should impale himself just to prove that he is alive?" Jack wondered.

"Why would he do that?" Will jumped into the conversation. "Do you not see the benefits of Gondor's enemies believing it is ruled by one who is dead? They wouldn't dare attack!"

"That is certainly beneficial," Halbarad unexpectedly added. While the others could not see his reaction, a small smile quirked upon the Dúnedain chieftain's lips.

'_Trust Jack Sparrow to make light of a serious situation_,' he thought.

The conversation, nonetheless, did die as they continued riding. They became as weary as their horses, for there had been little rest that day and they were pressing hard to reach the stone at a decent time.

It was just before midnight that the company came to the Hill of Erech, where at its peak lay the infamous stone. Those that did not know much about it were impressed by the sight, for it was a deep black rock higher than the height of a man, and yet it was obvious that a good deal of it was buried underground. Stars glinted brightly and coldly upon its smooth surface. It was a few feet from the stone that the company stopped.

Elrohir silently gave Aragorn a small silver horn that glinted just as brightly in the starlight, and the Dúnadan gave one long blow into it. It echoed within the tall peaks and deep caverns for miles, and it seemed to all nearby that it was the sound of an army responding to his call.

But suddenly, on the other side of the hill the ghosts became visible to all of them, and the specters stood silently, looking upon Aragorn expectantly. The man dismounted and, standing by the Stone of Erech, called out to them, "Oathbreakers, why have ye come?"

A great voice echoed out into the night in response: "To fulfill our oath and have peace."

Aragorn replied, "The hour is come at last. Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and ye shall come after me. And when all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and ye shall have peace and depart forever. For I am Elessar, Isildur's heir of Gondor."

As Halbarad dismounted and unfurled the standard he had brought, Jack muttered to Will, "Think he came up with that just now or had it memorized?"

"I quite honestly cannot tell with him- dear Lord, Jack, are those jewels on that standard?"

"What jewels? I don't see anything but black."

"It was glinting- ah, never mind, it seems dark now. Trick of the eye, I suppose. As it is, it looks like Aragorn is done."

So he was, and the rest of the company dismounted and made ready to rest that night. Will and Jack quickly made their way to Aragorn, who was rolling out his bedroll.

"So we're, eh, staying here tonight, O Dead King?" Jack asked.

Aragorn shot him a blank look before replying. "Yes. I suggest you both rest as much as you are able, for we will leave with the dawn, and there will be little rest until we come to Minas Tirith."

They did as suggested and were soon lying down, but little rest they received, for the presence of the dead haunted all the mortals of the company. The elves stayed up all night on watch, allowing for the weary men to rest as best as they may, for with the dawn would come another long, wearisome ride eastward.

0O0O0O0

Éowyn had not been present for the morning and noon meals, and so Elizabeth and Anamaria were surprised to see her in the dining tent that evening for supper. She beckoned them over to the corner of the long table she sat at and they gladly joined her. A couple higher-ranking soldiers sat in other parts of the large tent, but for the most part the place was empty, for Théoden and his men had yet to arrive.

"Nice to see you, Éowyn," Anamaria said with a genuine grin.

"And you, Anamaria," said the lady with a slight smile. She nodded her head in greeting towards Elizabeth, and when the gesture was returned, she looked back to Anamaria and eyed the crutch she was using. "Has your leg been bothering you?"

"No more than before," she replied, "but since I'm stuck here, I might as well use it."

Éowyn easily noted the bitterness in her friend's voice, and a quick glance at the other woman quickly confirmed what she had suspected that morning. "They left you behind against your will."

"My sorry excuse for a husband drugged me last night," Elizabeth all but growled, the vehemence in her tone surprising the young Rohir shieldmaiden.

"Orders, myself," Anamaria said. "If it were any man but my captain, I wouldn't have followed them."

"What were his orders?" she asked, her tone unusually light.

The dark woman slightly frowned. "Just that I wasn't coming with him and the others."

"He did not forbid you from riding to Minas Tirith, then?"

Anamaria suddenly caught onto the other woman's train of thought, and her eyes sparkled in delight. "He did not- he did not!" Her delight, however, did not go to Elizabeth.

"I haven't spoken much with the king," the glum woman started, "but he seems even less willing than my husband to let Anamaria or me, as women, to go to war- and so it is in our own society. I will not, however, let my husband and my friends go into battle while I am left at home to worry and wait about them."

"So is how I see it," said Éowyn, but she did not clarify the statement. A new light of respect, however, was in her eyes when she gazed upon Will's wife. Their conversation was interrupted by their supper being brought in, and for a while they ate in silence. Near the end of the meal, however, the Rohir spoke again. "Anamaria, I have some skills as a healer, and I will change your bandages. Tomorrow I imagine my lord uncle shall come, and we will likely leave within the next few days. There will be little time for healing, but hopefully it will be enough. You must rest in the short time we have.

"I will speak with my lord concerning your situation, and I may convince him that you both are valuable assets for the battles ahead. If not- well, there are other ways. As it is, I know sooner than most the hour of the day that the king plans to depart, and when I know that hour, I will seek the both of you again. Do not wander far from your tents."

"I will stay then with Anamaria, so you may find us more easily," said Elizabeth, her tone lighter than it was at the beginning of the meal.

"So be it."

After they finished eating, the former pirate saw her wounds tended to by Éowyn, and was glad to see that her arm was all but recovered- whatever Aragorn had done to help it, it worked. Her ankle, to her dismay, was little better, but at the least had not become worse. She hoped that a couple days of rest would help it, and if it did not, she would still be able to ride.

Both Elizabeth and Anamaria slept well that night, more content falling asleep than they were waking up, now that they knew that Éowyn was aiding them in their cause.

The next morning, they were woken early to what sounded like organized chaos. Anamaria made as if to get up, but Elizabeth rolled her eyes and gently, but firmly pushed her back down.

"Stay here- remember your ankle! You cannot ride if you cannot stand."

"Try me."

She rolled her eyes once more. "Please stay- I know Éowyn asked you to rest. I'll see what is happening and tell you right away." Anamaria sighed but gave way, her desire to be well enough to ride to Minas Tirith overtaking her current curiosity.

The sun was just rising as Elizabeth strode out of the tent, surprised by the amount of activity happening at such an hour. A large tent was being erected on one side of the camp, and seeing to it was Éowyn. She waited until the other woman was finished listing off a great deal of instructions to a soldier before grabbing her attention.

"What is all this?" she asked.

"Scouts arrived in camp not too long ago," said the other. "The king and his company shall be here today, in the afternoon or early evening."

"This is his tent, then," Elizabeth commented more than asked. Her companion nodded, and they watched as the final supports were set in and the tent fully erected. Men started to carry in various items into the pavilion, but it was a smaller tent near the large one that caught her attention. "What is that for?"

"His squire, of course," she replied. "The Holbytla, the one you traveled with- Master Meriadoc."

"Merry! Of course!" She could have smacked herself- with all of the events of the past few days, she had forgotten that Merry was left behind with King Théoden. "I need to tell this to Anamaria; she's waiting for me and will likely come out herself if I am not back soon. Thank you for the information!"

"You are most welcome," said Éowyn, a small smile touching her features as she saw the obvious joy the news brought her. "I will have Master Meriadoc visit you as soon as he is able. Do not let Anamaria on her feet- I would rather her eat her meals in her tent today." She lowered her voice. "She will not ride well otherwise."

"I will tell her so. My thanks, again." She quickly left her, returned to her companion and relayed the news to her. Anamaria was just as delighted as she was to the prospect of seeing Merry once more, but the news to keep off her feet the whole day left her glum.

"Alright, alright!" she muttered. "Damn woman. Better watch out once I am on my feet once more."

"'tis Éowyn's orders, not mine," the other retorted with a teasing smile. "And when Merry comes, he'll say the same."

"Wonderful." Her head collapsed onto her pillow as Elizabeth only shook her head and left the tent to grab breakfast for the two of them.

The rest of the day passed slowly as they eagerly awaited the arrival of the king's company and, most importantly, the arrival of the hobbit. Their waiting finally came to a close as trumpets sounded throughout the valley below Dunharrow in the mid-afternoon. Within the hour the party had made their way through the thousands of soldiers stationed there and up to the top of the long, winding path that led to the camp before the path that led to Dwimorberg. While she greatly wished to see the procession arrive, Elizabeth stayed with Anamaria so the other woman would not be tempted to follow. As it was, the person she wished to see most was Merry, and Éowyn had reassured her that she would send him to them once he was available.

It was not too long after the activity in the camp died down when Merry came to them. He quietly called to the women from outside of their tent. "Elizabeth? Anamaria? Are you in there?"

"We're here, Merry!" Elizabeth said, gladness evident in her voice. The hobbit entered the tent and quickly embraced the two women before sitting down.

"Well, you look all good and proper," said Anamaria, glancing over his Rohirric armor with a light smirk. "Is this now your official uniform?"

"Yes! I am the king's squire, if you didn't know," he said proudly. "I won't have much time to chat, as I'm expected to be at his side at dinner."

"Pity," said Elizabeth. "We were hoping to sup with you tonight."

"How was your trip?" Anamaria asked. "Hobbits always seem to be drawing trouble to themselves, if our experience since we left the Shire counts for anything."

"I doubt it's us hobbits- I never had any trouble before having dealings with Mankind," Merry protested playfully. "As it is, the ride was rather slow and uneventful, truth be told. I am more curious about yourselves, though- I thought you would be on those dreadful Paths of the Dead with the others. I was surprised when Éowyn pulled me aside and told me you were both here!"

"We were supposed to be with the others," Elizabeth muttered darkly; the expression upon her face was grimmer than Merry had seen from her in quite a long time. "My husband kept me here against my will, using devious methods to achieve his goal."

"And Jack, for the only moment in his life, cared for someone other than himself and ordered me to stay due to my ankle," Anamaria scowled.

Merry frowned as he listened to them. "That is a rather unfair thing to say about Jack."

"It's bloody well _true_."

"Well, granted, he is a bit... peculiar," Merry admitted, "but he has been rather helpful."

"I would hardly call this helpful," she snarled at the hobbit. She turned away from him, a scowl deep upon her face.

Merry sighed and turned to Elizabeth, who would surely be more reasonable than the other woman. "I'm sure Will was just concerned for you..."

Elizabeth, despite his beliefs, was not. "He had no right to drug-"

"He _drugged _you? How?"

"Aragorn!" She did not clarify upon the statement, but Merry could guess what had happened.

"Well- that is rather unfair play- but he wasn't doing it to harm you-"

"The next time I see him, I'll bloody well harm him!" She was sounding very much like Anamaria right now, and the hobbit was not sure if he really liked that.

"Think of it like this," he started, trying a new approach, "at least you don't have to go on the Paths of the Dead! The King, Lord Éomer, and Lady Éowyn seem to think that Aragorn and the rest of them are never going to be seen again."

"They obviously don't know my captain very well," Anamaria scoffed.

"And I've had more experience with the dead than the whole bloody lot of them in that cave altogether!" Elizabeth rebutted.

"Other than Jack," the other woman put in.

"He doesn't count!"

Merry sighed; this conversation had not turned out they way he wanted it to go. Anamaria, seeing his expression, asked him promptly, "How would you feel if you had to stay behind while the king and all the others rode off to war?"

"I can't be left behind!" he immediately protested. "I'm King Théoden's squire! And all of our friends have gone off to battle-"

"And now you know how we feel," Elizabeth interrupted him. "Our only ties to our old world are gone- gone to their deaths, if all these people are right- and we have nothing left. All our friends that we've made in this world are gone, too."

"Yea," agreed Anamaria, "the whole Fellowship has gone off to battle- Jack and Will, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Pippin..."

"Frodo and Sam," Merry added in a whisper. They all fell silent for a moment as the memory of both of the hobbits came to their minds. How long had it been since they last saw them? Were they still even alive? Each of them felt guilty as they thought of them for the first time in days, but Merry felt it especially hard. Frodo was his cousin, and he was carrying a doom greater than all of theirs. The fate of the world still rested with him; Frodo's wellbeing should be on his mind all the time, and if not all the time, certainly not so rarely. "Well," he said, breaking the silence after a moment, "I should be heading back to my tent... dinner should be soon." With that, he stood and left the women without another word. A couple moments of silence passed between the two, both deep within their own thoughts.

"I feel like a walk," Anamaria said suddenly.

Elizabeth thought about protesting for a moment, but quickly gave up on the thought. The woman had been off her leg the whole day; a short stroll would not harm her. "So do I," she finally replied, ignoring the other woman's incredulous look. "Let's walk over to the dining tent and get something to eat."

Without much talk they left their tent and went to grab some food. They immediately noticed how many more soldiers were around Dunharrow, and while they received some questioning looks from the newcomers, they were not bothered.

Dinner was somber in the large dining tent, filled with many more soldiers than the night before, and Elizabeth and Anamaria said nothing to one another as they ate. Near the end of their meal, a small commotion outside of the tent aroused everyone's attention, but it swiftly died and they all returned to their meals.

It was on their way back to their tent that the cause of the commotion was revealed to the women. Éowyn intercepted them, a slight scowl on her face when she saw Anamaria was up, but no words were spoken upon that matter. There were more important things to discuss.

"An errand-rider of Gondor came into the king's tent this night," she said once they were back in the women's tent. "He bore with him the Red Arrow." The other two looked at her blankly, and she smiled slightly. "Forgive me; I forgot you are unaccustomed to our ways. The Red Arrow is a symbol of war; it is what Gondor has sent to us as a call for aid since the creation of this country, and is only used in the most desperate times. It must be a grave situation in Mundburg if the steward sends it to us."

"That's all well and good," said Anamaria, "but what does this have to do with us?"

"My uncle has now decided to leave early on the morrow with the six thousand men here gathered," she replied, "and I did not bring up your situation, for he has already told me that Master Meriadoc will be left behind with me and the lady companions of Lord Aragorn."

"'Lady companions of Aragorn' indeed," Anamaria sneered, rolling her eyes, but in Elizabeth's eyes there was concern.

"Leaving Merry behind? He will be devastated!"

"So I imagine," said Éowyn bluntly. "He does not know this yet. However, six thousand horsemen is a great amount, and blending in with them is achievable."

"Blending in- you do not mean..." Elizabeth trailed off.

"I do. If you are still interested in coming to Minas Tirith, meet me behind the large tent, close to where our horses are tethered, at sunrise. No one will disturb us." With that, she left their tent.

The two glanced at one another. Over the past months they had become closer, being the only two women in a large group of men, and could read each other with relative ease now. Their expressions mirrored one another; they would be well ready to meet Éowyn with the coming dawn.

Unbeknownst to them, the dawn would not come.


	35. The Road to Minas Tirith

Just to clarify, once again... a couple parts of dialogue were taken from the book, and in the following chapters you will see a mix of both book and film, alongside my own elements. And, of course, this is all being done for my own entertainment (and the entertainment of others) and is completely non-profit. Anyone who tries to sell fan fic has obviously never heard of copyright... LOTR isn't going to be in public domain for a few years yet XD

* * *

Chapter 35: The Road to Minas Tirith

A hand on her shoulder immediately woke her up. Opening her eyes, Elizabeth was surprised to see that it was still dark; all she could make out was a figure kneeling beside her.

"Good morning," whispered a familiar voice.

"Éowyn?" she asked. "What time is it? I thought we were to meet you at dawn."

"The sun has risen, but there will be no dawn today," she said grimly. Deeper inside the tent Anamaria began to stir. She immediately sat up when she saw the shadow kneeling beside Elizabeth, but relaxed when she heard the other woman's voice. "A darkness spread from the East throughout the night, and now completely envelops the sky; I deem this darkness will remain until the Mordor's fall, if it ever comes."

"It will come," said Anamaria emphatically; the Rohir maiden only smiled grimly.

"And we shall contribute to its downfall, or die ourselves."

The two women of the Caribbean quickly gathered the few belongings they had and followed Éowyn out of the tent. Outside it was lighter than inside the tent, though the sun could not penetrate the great dark storm clouds that had come from Sauron's domain. They could see the other woman clearly now and were surprised to see that she was dressed as a soldier. Helmet on her head and her long hair hidden away, she looked like any other young soldier.

"You come with us?" asked Elizabeth.

"I, also, will not be left here while all my family and friends go to war," she replied. "I have already given my farewells to my uncle and brother, and prepared myself before coming to you." Éowyn quickly led them to a secluded part of the camp. Other soldiers in the area paid them little heed, preoccupied with their own duties or the foreboding sky they had awoken to. Rumor ran rampart amongst them of evil tidings from Gondor- rumor that it would be too late to save the White City.

Horses were tethered in several places along the high camp in Dunharrow, and Elizabeth and Anamaria had tethered Inwer and Brego near the back of the camp where only a couple days ago had also held the rest of their company's horses. Also tethered there, to their surprise, was a new horse- a grey gelding eyeing Éowyn curiously.

"This is Windfola," said Éowyn, scratching the horse's head affectionately. "Not my normal steed, but one of the numerous steeds in the royal stables used when a rider of an _éored_ cannot use his own horse, for whatever reason. He knows me well enough."

"Is my horse accustomed to battle?" Elizabeth asked. "I am afraid I have only had him for a few days."

"Inwer? Oh, yes, he knows battle."

"How did you know his name?" Anamaria asked.

"To the Rohirrim, a horse is as precious as any child- and we know individual horses distinctly. The former master of Inwer lived in Edoras and was a part of my brother's _éored_; I spoke with him a couple of times in the past." She said no more about it.

Beside the horses was a storage tent, and the shieldmaiden beckoned them inside. Within the tent were, alongside their horses' tack, two piles of clothing that looked to be the basic outfit that Rohirrim soldiers wore. Each pile contained a body gown of chain mail, a tunic and undershirt, pants, boots, thick leather gloves, a cloak, and a helmet. Éowyn glanced at the piles before turning to them. "You both are sure about this?" she asked, a keen glint in her eye as she inspected the two women.

"Bloody well am," Anamaria said swiftly and without hesitation. "Figured it would be suicide not to follow Galadriel's advice, anyways."

"Galadriel's advice?" Elizabeth asked, completely bewildered by the statement. "What on earth are you talking about? What advice?"

"You know, the advice she gave everyone in those messages in- oh, you weren't there with us in that forest." She frowned. "Well, Galadriel sent messages to each of us with Gandalf when he came back, and it was a bunch of jumble and rhyme, but I remember it well enough. She told me that when everything I love is gone all I needed to do is, uh, listen to my heart or something of the like. As it is, I'm bloody well listening to my heart now! I'm going after my captain and meeting him in Minas Tirith. Besides, the sword she gave me wouldn't be of any use out here, would it?"

"That is true," said Elizabeth, eyeing her companion's sword appreciatively. "The necklace she gave me is lovely," she said, taking it off and inspecting it, "but rather useless for battle."

"Less useless than Sam's pile of dirt," Anamaria pointed out.

"That is true, too," she smiled. She placed the jewel deep into her pack where it would be safe. "As it is," she said, directing her attention to Éowyn, "I have no advice but my own heart telling me this is the right thing to do. I will not leave my husband and my friends when all of them are at war. All who I love are gone."

"You understand my own motivations, then," said Éowyn, a fleeting smile on her face. "Very well, then. Get dressed; I need to see if we will be leaving anytime soon and see to some last preparations."

The two women dressed as quickly as possible, helping each other adjust the chain mail and all of the clothing over it. The boots looked to be a small size on men, but turned out to be too large for them and both women decided to keep on their own. It was quickly determined that Anamaria would have the less-revealing helm considering her skin color starkly stood out among the pale Rohirrim. Indeed, the only part that you could see of her face was her eyes.

"I hate this bloody thing," she muttered. "It's as if I have a bucket on my head."

"You can take it off once we reach Gondor," said Elizabeth as she adjusted her own helm. It looked similar to Éowyn's- her cheeks and nose were covered, but her mouth and chin showed, unlike Anamaria's. "This feels... odd."

"You will become used to it," said Éowyn as she entered the tent. She carried a large pack with her, which she dropped on the ground with the rest of their belongings. She inspected them over and nodded slowly. "This will pass- but you keep your own cloaks?"

"They look similar enough," Anamaria argued. "This cloak is the most useful piece of cloth I've ever had; I'm not taking it off anytime soon."

"Very well." She turned to Elizabeth. "Can you shoot on horseback?"

"I've never done it, no."

"I thought not, so I brought you this." She had with her a sheathed broadsword. "It would be best if you had something to defend yourself with on horseback." The other woman nodded her thanks and quickly buckled it on. "Now come, we must prepare our horses; the king will be leaving within the hour." She then opened the bag she had brought and it turned out to be a great deal of dry food. "Rations for the road, enough to split between us."

The three women made the final preparations for the journey to Gondor. Anamaria and Elizabeth stuffed their clothing- still the same outfits given to them in Rivendell- into their packs, and on top of that went the dry rations. They then gathered their horses' tack and quickly prepared their steeds for battle. Anamaria, though she had only been riding a horse regularly for a little over a week, found the process came almost naturally to her now. Elizabeth, who had not tacked a horse since Rivendell, found it a little more challenging.

"A little longer on the stirrups- your legs are not that short," Anamaria whispered to her. Though Elizabeth could not see it, she imagined that the other woman was grinning mockingly at her.

"I was on top of a walking tree for all the days you have been riding, you know," she hissed back as she adjusted the stirrups.

Their banter was interrupted as a loud horn call blew throughout the area. "The mustering horn," muttered Éowyn. "It is nearly time. Follow me!"

They jumped on top of their horses and the other two followed the Rohir to an area near the middle of the camp. Already a procession was being gathered and at the front Théoden's horse awaited his master. Éowyn headed straight for the back of the procession, far away from where the king would ride. As they rode, they passed a rather short rider, his head hanging low.

"Merry," Elizabeth muttered, sympathy in her voice. "He must have just been told he cannot come."

Éowyn glanced at her and then glanced at the hobbit. "Stay here," she said. She jumped off Windfola and headed towards their friend. The two women glanced at one another before turning their attention to the disguised shieldmaiden. She was talking quietly with Merry and, while they could not hear anything they said, it soon became obvious what she planned to do as she came back, the hobbit in tow with a cautious look of optimism upon his features. As he came closer to the women, his eyes narrowed and then widened in surprise as he recognized them.

"You two, as well?" he said in shock.

"You didn't expect us to actually stay behind, did you?" Anamaria retorted.

He shook his head. "I- I suppose not." He glanced once again at Éowyn. "How would you have me ride, my lady?"

"Hush," she said, glancing around- no one else noted his words. "If you must call me something, then call me Dernhelm. As for how, you shall ride behind me, under my cloak." And with no sign of warning on what she was about to do, she swiftly lifted Merry up and put him on her horse before climbing up herself. Merry quickly lifted up the cloak and pulled it over himself while Anamaria helped adjust the edges.

"Not the way I had imagined myself going to battle," Merry muttered just loud enough for his companions to hear.

"At least you will put Galadriel's gift once more to good use," said Elizabeth. "I remember your valiant stand at Amon Hen." There was silence as the three of them remembered Boromir and Gibbs.

"If Dernhelm has a name," Anamaria said, "then we should have one too, I think. Call me Joshamee."

"... Joshamee?" Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "Why Joshamee?"

"It was Gibbs' first name," said Anamaria softly. "He wasn't fond of it, though, and no one ever called him that- most people didn't know that was his name. I heard it accidentally when Jack was talking to him a couple months before I saw you again- before all this."

"Before all this," the other woman repeated. "Then call me Weatherby."

"Isn't that your old man's name?"

"Yes. I- I have a sure feeling now that I won't ever see him again... but I won't forget him."

Anamaria said nothing in response, and while both Éowyn and Merry heard their conversation, they did not reply to them- even though Merry knew that they were not from Middle-earth.

It was but a few minutes later that King Théoden finally came out, adorned head to toe in armor, to his horse. Behind him followed Éomer and a couple of marshals. They quickly jumped upon their horses and the herald let out another long blast. With this call, the procession at the top of Dunharrow began the steep ride down the mountain and into the valley. There all of the tents were gone and in their place were thousands of riders in ordered formation.

The king and his company reached the end of the formation and halted. One last blow of the horn signaled the beginning of their journey.

"Ride now! Ride now to Gondor!" Théoden cried aloud from the front, and six thousand warriors began a steady canter towards the East and the Shadow.

O0O0O0O

Jack was awoken by a touch on his shoulder. He willed his tired eyes open and saw it was one of the twins- which one, he could have never guessed. They looked completely identical to him.

"Mmhmm," he muttered.

"Good morning," said the elf with a slight smile. "Or at least it would be dawn, if Anor was not hidden by the darkness of Mordor."

"Hmm," he replied, sitting up and rubbing his eyes before blinking a few times. The elf smiled and left to prepare his own horse, but the man was not paying him much attention. He glanced around and saw that the Dúnedain were already walking about, preparing their horses and eating at the same time. He reached over and grabbed a loaf of _lembas_ bread out of his pack, took a couple of bites, and stuffed it back in before picking himself up. With a slight stagger, he went over to Nithhad, who was looking at him with what he was sure was pure hatred.

"I know, mate," he said softly to the animal before scratching him on the head. "I don't want to be up and riding you either- I'd settle for a ship any day. Not that you aren't too bad, now."

"Finally like your horse?" Will asked from a few feet away. He put the saddle blanket on top of Wistan and glanced at his friend amusedly.

"Never said I didn't like 'im," the other man shrugged. "But the old nag and I do agree on one thing: we don't want to be riding anywhere today."

"We are all weary," said a voice from behind him. Jack spun around and saw that it was both of the twins- who was who was, again, beyond his comprehension. "But we shall be over halfway done with our journey by the end of this day."

"This day," Will muttered. "What is this day? I lost track of time a long time ago."

"In what reckoning?" asked the elf on the left with a slight smile.

Jack turned from his horse and raised an eyebrow at the elves. "There are different dates? Can't you people just agree on one? Makes life remarkably simple."

The elf on the left chuckled. "Different races have different calendars. Which one are you accustomed to?"

"Ours."

"We did come here on Bilbo's birthday- that was on September 22nd," Will offered. "It was the same date in- well, where we came from."

"So you use Shire Reckoning."

The elf on the right interrupted him. "Elladan has always been interested in dates, numbers, and other such queer subjects. Once Bilbo came to live in Rivendell he badgered the poor _perian_ until he had memorized the Shire's calendar and how it aligned with our own, and all the others he had memorized long ago."

The elf on the left- or Elladan- only glanced at his brother in mock annoyance before continuing as if he had not been interrupted. "In the Shire reckoning, today is March 11th."

Will and Jack glanced at one another, surprise written on their features. Will frowned; when had he lost track of time? "Has it been so long already? When did we leave Rivendell?"

"December 25th," Elladan supplied once more.

Jack's face split into an awkward-looking half smile. "Christmas. Lovely. Best Christmas gift I've ever received- I always enjoy sticking my neck out for others."

The two elves glanced at one another before turning to the two men. "Christmas?" Elrohir asked.

"It's complicated," Will supplied quickly. "Don't think anything about it."

As it was, they were saved from further conversation by a call from Halbarad to mount up. The four of them quickly jumped on the backs of their horses, and within moments the Grey Company was moving once again, their third day on the road from the stone of Erech.

The riding thus far, for the most part, had been tedious. Already they had passed through two larger towns, Calembel and Ethring, in the previous days and were only met with screams of terror from the locals alongside more shouts about Aragorn being the King of the Dead. Jack's amusement over these calls died as he became more weary and, indeed, somewhat impatient to meet some sort of action that went beyond clinging to a horse. He, of course, did not mind lazy days sitting on a boat or on a beach with no action in sight, but fighting would now be a nice alternative to sitting on a horse for three days straight. He could not laze about right now, and fighting would at least provide some entertainment.

If he were to be honest with himself, he was especially interested in seeing these corsairs and if they lived up to his expectations.

Legolas and Gimli rode beside Jack and Will throughout the day, and it was about midday when the elf said, "I see smoke."

The elf pointed to the south, further down the road, but they could not see any smoke among the dark clouds. "I'm afraid you're hallucinating, mate," Jack offered.

"Nay! I see it as clear as day," the elf replied. "I had forgotten your own eyesight cannot see so clearly."

"No need to rub it in," Will said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

"He's an elf; that is what they do," Gimli pointed out.

Legolas only smiled. "You will see it soon."

If the sun had been present, it would have shown it to be mid-afternoon when Jack and Will finally saw the smoke for themselves. While they could not yet see the source of the burning with miles of trees and foliage in front of them, they could easily guess what caused it.

With the smoke now in sight, the horses were spurred from a trot to a canter. It was not even an hour later that the trees began to spread out and finally end as they came to a great expanse of fields. Beyond the fields and scattered farmhouses was a large town upon a river. Part of the town, especially near the river, was on fire and great clouds of dark grey smoke covered the city.

Jack, Will, Legolas, and Gimli rode up to the front of the procession to get a better look and ended up near Aragorn and the sons of Elrond. They looked grim.

"What is this place?" Will asked.

"Linhir," said Aragorn. "The main crossing point of the river Gilrain. Let us hope that the bridge has not been destroyed."

"I still hear the echo of battle," said Elrohir. "Gondor still defends this point."

"Then we shall aid them," said Aragorn, and with that he spurred his horse into a canter once more.

"About time!" Jack said to Will with a wide grin. "This shall be fun, eh, mate? Who knows, maybe these corsairs won't be too bad."

Gimli overheard him and sputtered. "Corsairs are vile excuses of Men!"

Will only shook his head and was about to reply to Gimli, but his attention was turned to Legolas and the strange look on his face. "Legolas?"

Gimli heard the worry in the man's voice and, unable to see his friend's face, panicked slightly. "Master Elf! You better not be unwell for I cannot steer this blasted beast without you!"

The elf stirred and glanced at Gimli. "Do not worry about Arod, he follows Aragorn's lead." He blinked and the strange look came to his face once more. "Do you not hear them, the seagulls and their cries?"

Will nearly let go of the reigns in his surprise. "What?" Gimli blinked and looked just as confused as the man.

"Bad time to lose your sanity, mate," Jack put in, and there was no more time for conversation, for they had come to Linhir and could hear the signs of battle nearby. Aragorn led the Grey Company, Fellowship, and the Army of the Dead through the port town and they met the first skirmishes near the town center. Jack pulled out his pistol and grinned, but his smile quickly turned into astonishment and annoyance as the two battling parties stopped fighting and turned as one to look upon the newcomers. All of their faces were filled with terror.

"The King of the Dead has come!" cried someone in the crowd, and as one, the large crowd of fighters, Gondorrim and enemies alike, turned the opposite direction and ran, some dropping their weapons in their terror.

"Not here, too!" Jack growled in frustration. He thought about shooting one of them as he ran, but held himself back and shot the window of a nearby building instead.

"Was that really necessary?" Will asked with a raised brow.

"Be happy I didn't shoot one of them," he shot back. "Should have- those fellows didn't look like any pirates I've seen, and they didn't even bother trying to trip their enemies as they ran off."

"They were not corsairs," said one of Elrond's sons. "Those were Haradrim. Many tribes of Harad work under the Dark Lord alongside the pirates of Umbar; I would not be surprised if they sailed up the river on Umbar's ships, however."

Jack and Will had little time to absorb this information as Aragorn motioned them forward. They continued through the town, and, just as it was with the first skirmish they encountered, the moment the Gondorrim and the Haradrim felt the presence of the Dead they ran off, forgetting any orders or pride they had. With no one to counteract their coming, they soon came to the docks of Linhir where they were met with a most unusual sight.

The scene looked like any normal battle scene, with partially or completely destroyed structures and plenty of smoke floating around the fallen. However, every warrior was running as fast as possible away from the docks. The Haradrim were hurrying as quickly as they were able to their ships, the ships themselves being unlike any ships Jack Sparrow had ever seen before. For one thing, the sails were completely the wrong way- they were parallel with the ship rather than perpendicular to it. While the display of oars was impressive enough, it did not change the fact that the ships were rather small. Puny, really. The men running the ships- who looked much different than the Haradrim they had encountered- did not impress him much, either. Any of his men could certainly outfight any one of them in a heartbeat.

"There are the Corsairs of Umbar," said Gimli grimly.

Jack glanced at Gimli, vaguely noted Legolas' airy, far-eyed expression, and then turned back to the river before him. He was not impressed whatsoever with this world's pirates.

Running away from the river and heading north were all of the Gondorrim, clearly just as terrified as their enemies of the Dead. They certainly did not seem interested in staying around long enough to see whose side the Dead were actually on.

"Are you going to send your dead army to those ships?" asked Will to Aragorn.

The Dúnadan shook his head as he watched the half-dozen ships set out. "This is but a taste of the massive force that lays assault upon Pelargir. They likely will head to their allies there, and there they will meet their doom."

Aragorn was about to turn and begin to lead the company north of the docks to where the river's great bridge stood, but Elladan stopped him. "Wait! Someone has not fled- a Gondorian captain, by the looks of him. He approaches from the south." Surprised by this development, the heir of Isildur leapt from Roheryn and went ten paces forward to meet this fearless man.

A tall Gondorian with greying dark hair, rich, but bloodstained armor, and a wary expression slowly came out from the smoke that covered most of the docks. While his sword was sheathed, a gloved hand remained on the hilt. He stopped four paces in front of Aragorn and said, "I am Angbor, Lord of Lamedon. Who are you and what is the purpose of you and your company?"

And Aragorn replied, "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn of the Dúnedain of the North. We ride to Pelargir to eliminate the Enemy."

The other man eyed the live company of just over a couple dozen men, spared a glance at the Dead who followed, and turned at Aragorn once more. "Then the Grey Host is under your command?"

"Yes."

Angbor let this knowledge quickly sink in; he was well learned in the lore of Gondor and knew what there was to know of the Dead that lingered beyond the Morthond Vale. He took in the Ranger's presence and, despite his state of dress, swiftly saw the man for who he was. He bowed deeply. "Command me, lord. How may I be of aid?"

"Gather what men you can if they dare come, once the Grey Host has passed. Follow us down the road that leads to the Anduin; at Pelargir the Heir of Isildur will have need of you." Angbor nodded and bowed, and Aragorn swiftly swung back up on Roheryn and led them to a great bridge that crossed the Gilrain. Without further delay, they continued on the road, now going due East, that led to Pelargir.

They did not stop until late into the night, and even the hardy Dúnedain were feeling the effects of three days of non-stop riding and little sleep. Will was all but nodding off on Wistan, but before he collapsed, he needed to settle something.

"Legolas," he asked as they rolled out their bedrolls, "what was all that about the gulls earlier? You've been acting strange ever since we were in Linhir."

The elf sighed. "Lady Galadriel warned me in her message to beware of the gull's cry and I did not heed her. Alas for my folly, for now I cannot forget them."

"There were no gulls at Linhir," said Gimli, slowly beginning to suspect what was wrong with his friend but not sure if he was correct; he had thought that story about elves and the Sea just a myth.

"You could not hear them, but they were there, flying high above us, for we are close to the Sea. Their cries have stayed with me ever since, and I fear it will remain so until I respond to their call."

"You're not making much sense, mate," Jack put in as he laid down on his bedroll. "They're just birds."

Legolas smiled sadly at him. "You do not know? I shall tell you, then. All elves of Middle-earth- even my father's people, none of whom saw the light of the Great Trees- are doomed to leave these lands and sail West to lands forbidden to mortals. When we come to the Sea and hear the cries of the gulls, the calling from the Blessed Lands is awakened in us. I will never know full peace again in the woods until I sail and leave Middle-earth."

Will frowned; he did not quite understand all of what Legolas said, but he believed he caught the gist of it. "So you cannot stop thinking about the ocean until you leave to go to this place for elves?"

"Something like that, yes."

"That sounds... bothersome," he said, though quite honestly he found it more disturbing than bothersome. "Can't Aragorn heal you or something?"

Legolas laughed lightly. "This is not something that can be cured; it is as much a part of me as are my hearing and sight. But please, do not tell Aragorn just yet! He must not be distracted from his quest, and he does not need to know about my sea-longing now. I will tell him when this is all over."

Will glanced over at Aragorn a few yards away; he looked to be sleeping, though he looked anything but relaxed. Sighing, he nodded his acquiescence to the elf. "I will not tell him." He glanced over at Jack and Gimli; they seemed to have dozed off while they talked. "Let us sleep; it will be a long ride tomorrow."

"Wise words, my friend."

O0O0O0O

It was just after three hours past midnight when Aragorn awoke with a gasp. Halbarad, who lay nearby, awoke at the sound and his hand went immediately to the hilt of his sword. When he saw no enemy and only heard the sound of his kinsman's breathing, he relaxed and rather focused his attention on his chieftain.

"Aragorn?" he said softly as he approached him. "Are you well?"

The other man sat up and gently massaged his brow. "Yes, I am well, but I fear for Minas Tirith. My dreams were dark this night, and I know in my heart the White City has already been assailed. I fear it will fall ere we come to its aid. We must leave."

"At once?"

"Yes. If we do not leave now, we shall never reach the city in time."

Halbarad nodded and stood, quickly alerting the sentries of this new development. Within half an hour, the men were awake and on top of their horses, and by the fourth hour of the day they were off.

That day was the hardest day of their ride yet; they did not rest at all during the day, and when night fell, they continued to ride. By this time, every mortal within the Company felt a weariness unlike any weariness they had ever felt before. Will was all but falling asleep on his steed, and Jack had taken to muttering nonsensical songs under his breath to keep himself distracted from his exhaustion. Legolas, while trying to encourage his mortal companions as they rode, often stared into the distance for long periods and paid little heed to the world around him.

Elladan and Elrohir, while feeling the effects of so many days of hard riding, were not as weary as the others and the former rode in the rear to see that none of the company went astray, while the latter rode near the head with Aragorn and kept an eye on him. The Dúnadan knew this and was thankful for the support, for while he kept up the facade of never-ending strength for the company he led, he too felt great fatigue.

While they did not know the hour of the day, for the dark clouds of Mordor still covered the sun, they knew that it was sometime near dawn when they finally came to Pelargir. The road in front of them slopped down and went on for a mile or so longer before it came to the entrance of the city. The port of Pelargir was much greater in size than Linhir, but even then, the city- the largest one Jack and Will had seen in their time in Middle-earth- looked small compared to the great fleet on the Anduin. Fifty large ships- ships much larger than the ones that had come to Linhir- overtook the ports of Pelargir, and surrounding these ships were dozens of smaller vessels of all sizes.

"Might have underestimated our pirate friends," Jack muttered to Will with a slight shrug. The young man only nodded wordlessly as he eyed the great fleet- a fleet that could hold thousands upon thousands of men.

Their attention was soon turned from the fleet to an army of a couple hundred men rushing out of the gates of Pelargir to meet them. The Grey Host stirred, but Aragorn held up a hand before they could rush onto them. Within a few minutes, the army of Haradrim and Corsairs were but a couple hundred feet away from them.

The enemy stopped and, while they felt an uncertain fear in their hearts, they did not see the army that lay behind the Grey Company and laughed at the few they saw. "Come to see the ruin of your city?" boasted a corsair captain at the front of the group.

"You are not welcome in Gondor," said Aragorn. "You do not know your peril."

The army laughed, the captain loudest of them all. "Kill them!" he shouted to the men.

Before they could make even a few strides forward, the heir of Isildur cried out, "Now come! By the Black Stone I call you! Now fulfill your oath!" Suddenly the Army of the Dead rushed past the Grey Company, drawing pale swords and crying terrible battle oaths. The army of the enemy stopped in their tracks and turned white in terror.

Jack leaned back into his saddle and smiled as he watched the ghosts crash upon them like an angry tidal wave. This was bound to be good.

O0O0O0O

Anamaria pulled herself gracelessly off Brego, muttering a curse under her breath as her ankle protested at the weight she put on it. The horse looked at her knowingly, as if he knew that she was not feeling well. She only glared at him as she started taking off his tack.

Beside her, she heard a grunt as Elizabeth slid off Inwer. Éowyn, of course, dismounted Windfola as if she had been doing it for all her life. '_She probably has_,' the woman thought to herself. The shieldmaiden quickly took Merry off as well, and, just like the night before, no one around them said anything about it.

After the army had started moving out from Dunharrow, Éowyn had led the others farther away from the king to a completely different company. It was with this _éored_ they had ridden with since, and the others had noticed that this group of men was treating them oddly. If Anamaria were to be quite honest with herself, she would have sworn that Elfhelm, the Marshal who led this _éored_, had even nodded at Éowyn when she had fallen behind him.

In the end, Elfhelm and she seemed to have some sort of understanding. No other soldier in the group paid any attention to her or her companions, even when it became rather obvious that Merry was there as well.

This, of course, allowed her to eat without trying to hide her whole appearance and allowed her to take off the awful helm when she fell asleep. To say she was relieved would be an understatement.

Just as they had done the night before, the four of them gathered closely together, their horses forming a barrier and separating them from the rest of the company. As they each took out their dried rations and began to eat, Éowyn spoke.

"If we are not delayed, we shall come to Mundburg in two to three days. Who can say what awaits us there."

"War, most likely," Anamaria said bluntly. "The bloody carnage of war."

Even in the dim light of the night's fires the others could see Merry's face pale. "Poor Pippin, trapped in that city," he said quietly as if to himself.

"Gandalf will look after him," Elizabeth said gently. Her own heart turned to her husband; her anger had cooled somewhat, and while she was sure that it would come back again once she knew if he was well, worry for him was at the forefront of her mind. Even if he made it beyond the paths and to Minas Tirith, if the force coming to the city was as great as she expected it to be, there was a great chance that he would fall in battle.

"Anyways," said Anamaria with a slight smile, "you'll be able to tell Pippin how well you fought, using your sword and Galadriel's dagger to kill anyone who dared to stand in your path."

Merry snorted humorously. "I am only a hobbit; I won't be of much use here. I- I just want to help my friends."

"From what I've seen these last few months," the darker woman said softly, "Hobbits are more useful than people think." Elizabeth nodded wordlessly in agreement; Éowyn only stared at him, her blank expression revealing nothing.

After they had eaten, Éowyn stood and went to her horse while the others unrolled their bedrolls. Elizabeth and Merry were soon asleep, but Anamaria found sleep eluding her that night. After tossing and turning for a while, she sat up and walked over to Éowyn, who was silently brushing down Windfola for the second time that evening.

Anamaria gently scratched Brego on his head as she glanced at the Rohir. The other woman seemed distracted, and while her gaze was on the brush, her friend was sure that the shieldmaiden's thoughts were far away from her mundane task. She sighed and, as if he was worried, Brego gently nudged his rider. The dark woman smiled and ran her fingers through his mane.

"Brego does well with you," Éowyn spoke suddenly.

"I never thought myself a horse-person," Anamaria said with a shrug, "but he has been a good fellow, ever since Aragorn gave him to me. My first horse was killed in that Warg battle."

"I remember," she replied. She left her own steed and gently stroked Brego's face. "This horse was my cousin's for a long time."

Anamaria blanched; she remembered the funeral for him. "I'm sorry; I didn't know."

Éowyn shook her head, her expression grim. "The past is past. After Théodred's death, Brego became wild; he followed my brother to Edoras only because he held my cousin's body. But when Théodred never returned to him, he would let no one near- that is, until Aragorn came. I saw it with my own eyes; the horse changed from a wild beast to the endearing creature he was before my cousin fell." Her grim expression flickered as she glanced at Brego, and then turned to the other woman. "Take care of him."

"I'll do my best," said Anamaria with a wry smile, "though he'd be likely better off staying in Rohan than with me when this is done." She stroked his mane thoughtfully. "What will you do, when this war is over?"

"You assume we will succeed."

Anamaria raised an eyebrow at her dark tone. "Aye, I do." She knew that a big part of their victory was if Frodo and Sam were successful, and she simply could not let her thoughts stray to the consequences if they were not. It was hard enough losing Gibbs and Boromir.

Éowyn laughed humorously. "You have more hope than I, then." She fell silent for a moment before saying, "I do not expect to ride away from this battlefield."

Her friend frowned. "You think you will die?" She paused. "Do you want to die?"

The Rohir's face became grimmer. "I would rather die with my kin in valor and glory than rot away with old age, safe and yet alone as I have been for all of my life." Before Anamaria could comment, she turned away and went to her bedroll.

Before she joined her companions in slumber, Anamaria promised herself to keep an eye on Éowyn when they came to Minas Tirith. The shieldmaiden may want to die some glorious death in battle, but she certainly had no intention on letting her friend die easily. The reason she had snuck into the army was to help her friends- and if Éowyn were the one in need of aid, she would gladly give it to her.

O0O0O0O

The fighting was done by the afternoon, and those of the Grey Company had done little of the actual fighting. Jack would say he was disappointed in doing so little if he actually was. The Army of the Dead, however, had greatly provided the entertainment and end to the monotony of five days of constant riding in a spectacular fashion. He had simply never imagined all of the ways battles changed when one could both fly and walk through anything. To say the results were fascinating would be an understatement.

Sadly, the post-battle business was not nearly as entertaining. Once all of Gondor's enemies were slain or run away, Aragorn dispersed the members of his company to each of the large boats.

"Do you want us to make sure they are ready to sail?" Will asked. "Are we leaving so soon?"

The Ranger's lips had thinned. "Nay; the Corsairs of Umbar are well known to use slaves on their ships."

"We'll take that large one up there," Jack said with a quick smile, taking Will by the shoulder and pushing him towards the great ship at the front of the procession. Once they were out of earshot, he snorted. "These pirates are bloody idiots. Even Barbossa knew that slaves were no good with ships."

Will raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Well, land slaves are with their families and friends most of the time, eh? They sleep on land, usually in some sort of bed, usually have decent food-"

"Any food is better than a ship's load of food," Will countered with a grimace.

"Exactly. But when you have slaves on a ship, they have no motivation for doing anything- no decent food, no family, and soon enough they become so despondent that they don't even care if you kill them off. The effort of replacing slaves over and over again is not worth it; much easier to pay the crew to keep the ship in tip-top shape."

Will only nodded as they came to the vessel. Jack quickly leapt onto the deck and took a deep breath. "I've missed this." He glanced around the area, nonchalantly stepping over a dead corsair as he went to the wheel. He put his hands on it and closed his eyes, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

"C'mon Jack, let's go down below," the younger man called out to his companion. Sighing, he regretfully let go of the wheel and followed Will below deck to where the oars were. He nearly bumped into the other man when he stopped in his tracks. Jack quickly peeked over his shoulder to see what made him do this, and his face fell.

To say the slaves were in deplorable condition would be an understatement. Each man was chained at the hands, which was in turn connected to the oar where he sat. They were in various states of emaciation, some so thin that the bones were clearly visible under the skin around their very baggy clothes. Each of them was filthier than Gibbs after a snooze in a pigsty, and they looked at the two newcomers mostly in fear and suspicion.

"These pirates weren't very nice," Jack whispered to the younger man, ignoring the fact that everyone who was lucid enough was openly staring at him. Will only nodded, and the other cleared his throat before clasping his hands together and stepping in front of the blacksmith. "Gents! As you may have already guessed, due to recent events there has been a change of plans for you all. Most regretfully the former keepers of this fine ship have disappeared, leaving this ship very much abandoned in- where are we, Will?"

"Pelargir."

"Right, Pelargir!" He cleared his throat, ignoring the looks of utter bemusement being sent his way. "As it is, I'll be taking control of this ship-" He ignored Will's expression. "-and, well, I don't really have a thing for slaves. So you can thank me for setting you all free."

"And Isildur's heir," said Will, knowing from past experiences that the title usually drew some form of attention. He was not disappointed.

"Yes, yes, him too." Jack waved him off with a hand. "Now, where are those keys..." He looked around the room for some sort of area where the keys would be held.

"Ah, we need no keys," the young man put in. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a picklock.

"Where did you get that?"

"I had it on me when we left on the _Dauntless_," he replied as he went to the first man and started picking at the lock.

"You've been carrying it all this time?"

"I thought it may come in handy."

Jack frowned. "What in the world were you doing with it in the first place?"

Will glanced away from the chains as the first manacle unlocked. "I'm a _blacksmith_," he replied, as if the answer was obvious.

The other only raised an eyebrow. "Well, then, I'll go and look in the captain's quarters for some keys." He left the other alone with the slaves, and as the first men became free, hope began to spring into all of their eyes- a hope completely unlooked for. Many of them caught the term 'Isildur's heir' and, even as weakened as many of them were, became eager to see if what these strange men said was true.

Jack soon came back with a key ring filled with many keys, and after flipping through several of them, finally found the one that unlocked the manacles. Within minutes all of the men were free. Some were standing, still shocked over their new freedom, while others were supporting their weaker companions.

"Right," said the captain. "Now you're all free to go. The town's a bit burnt around the edges, but I'm sure we'll all make due. What you'll want to be doing now is heading to the tall, dark-haired fellow that is likely surrounded by dead fellows if they're finished chasing the corsairs away. Nothing to worry 'bout them, though, they'll leave you be."

Will rolled his eyes. "I'll lead you all to him." He turned his attention to Jack. "And after that, I'll head to the other ships and see if any of them are missing keys and need the pick."

"Take these- maybe one of them will help," Jack said as he tossed him the keys. With that, Will, Jack, and the former slaves climbed up to the deck and Jack idly watched them leave the boat before going down to explore some more.

He mostly came upon storage rooms and sleeping quarters, and while he rummaged throughout all of the rooms, he found little of interest. However, at the end of a hallway, after finding no obstacles in his explorations, he finally came to his first one in the form of a locked door. Jack frowned at the lock; he had no desire to go find Will for the keys. Shrugging to himself, he took out his pistol- still fully loaded after seeing to it this morning- and shot the lock off the door. It proved to be an effective alternative to keys. Smiling, he put away his weapon and pushed the door open.

Another storage room. Others had contained food, clothing, and weapons- he could only guess what was in here, in the only locked room he had found thus far. Jack quickly opened one of the chests and a smile split across his face.

Riches. Tons of gold and silver coins were mixed in with various gems and assorted jewelry. His smile, however, widened as he took in the amount of chests that lay within the room. The amount of coffers was impressive; he had not seen such worth since the cave that held all of the plunder of Barbossa's men. Granted, the amount in there had been many times larger than what was here, but the Royal Navy had swiftly taken all of that treasure. This time, though, this time there were no enemies in his way.

It certainly would be easy enough. This ship was too large for one man to use by himself, but there were many smaller boats that he could use. He could not carry all of this, either, but he could carry one chest and had plenty of pockets for other riches. That would be enough to get him started, away from this suicidal war. He may even be able to sail himself back to the Caribbean.

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps coming down the hall. He swiftly turned around and lifted his gun straight into Aragorn's face.

He frowned. "Can't go scaring people around like that, mate." He lowered his pistol, but did not put it away. Hesitation gripped Jack as the Ranger stared at the open chest filled with gold and jewels.

"The Corsairs have been pillaging the coasts for many years," he said. "The captain of this ship has been doing it for a very long time." Jack only nodded in reply as he glanced back at the open chest. Aragorn followed his gaze and then glanced at the younger man knowingly. "You covet it?"

"Any man would," he said quietly.

Aragorn stare hardened as he gazed at his friend, and Jack did not even bother trying to hold his gaze. His eyes were just as bad as Gandalf's. Silence lay between them for a few moments, Jack's fingers twitching on the trigger of the pistol. The other man did not miss this.

"You are not the man who you used to be, Captain Sparrow," Isildur's heir said pointedly.

Jack glanced at Aragorn and when he looked into his eyes, he knew that the other man knew. "When did you find out?"

"I have had suspicions for a while," was all he said.

The pirate idly polished the gun's barrel with his shirt. "And the others?"

"Gandalf, perhaps, but I doubt the others have any idea about your past."

The other man only nodded. His hand still on the gun, he glanced at the treasure. It would be so simple- he need not even kill Aragorn, just knock him out or lock him somewhere else... by the time he was found, he would be far away from here.

'_That would be mutiny_,' a part of his mind informed him.

'_I've done worse_.'

'_Mutiny against a friend- a friend who trusts you to do the right thing_.'

Jack frowned at the thought, and as he glanced at Aragorn suddenly the phrase '_For if thy past conquers thee again, darkness will come upon the world of Men_' passed through his mind. His eyebrows furrowed; where had that come from?

'_Galadriel's message_,' another part of his mind helpfully put in.

With that thought, Galadriel came into his mind, and with Galadriel came the images he had seen in her mirror not even a month ago. The images had faded with time, but at that moment it was as if he was seeing them again in the mirror. His friends appeared one by one, and this time they were all ruthlessly slaughtered. The last thing he saw was Aragorn's lifeless eyes.

"Jack." He opened his eyes and he saw Aragorn had stepped closer, concern etched in his features. "Are you well? You became pale and swayed."

The man hesitated for a second before nodding. "I'm fine." He glanced at his pistol one last time before putting it back into its sheath. He spared the chests one last look before grinning wryly at Aragorn. "These pirates are a shame to their kind. This is hardly what I'd call worth keeping. The coins are dull and the stones have lost their shine."

A small smile came upon the Dúnadan's face. "So it would seem." He turned back to the door. "Come now, I have released the Dead Men and soon dinner will be ready- and it will be a decent meal, for the survivors of Pelargir are eager to help us."

Jack nodded and made to follow, but in a split moment before following Aragorn out the door, he grabbed a handful of gold coins and stuck them into his pocket. He would stick with his companions- his friends- for the long run, but that did not mean he could not help himself to a little reward.

And in the end, stealing stolen goods did not technically count as stealing, anyways.


	36. The Battle of Pelennor Fields

Chapter 36: The Battle of Pelennor Fields

The smell of smoke was evident that evening, and rather than stop for a long period of rest, the host of the Rohirrim rode on throughout the night in order to make it to Minas Tirith the next morning. The sun was just beginning to rise in the east when they finally came to the battle- though they did not know it, for the darkness that surrounded the sky about the city and beyond was so whole it seemed to be permanent.

If they did not win this battle, it likely would remain permanent.

Elfhelm's _éored_ was just behind the king's company, and even behind dozens of other soldiers, Éowyn and her companions could clearly make out Minas Tirith and the fields beyond.

"Oh Lord," Elizabeth whispered faintly as she looked upon Gondor's capital for the first time. She could see why Boromir was so proud of his city- it was tall, majestic, and unlike any city she had ever seen before. She imagined that in the sunlight the white stones shone, but at this moment they were covered in shadow. Various spots of fire burned inside and out of Minas Tirith, and beyond the city walls were tens of thousands of orcs, more orcs than she ever imagined.

This was nothing like she had expected it to be; this was much worse.

"Courage for our friends," Éowyn muttered to them. Anamaria, face unseen but for her eyes, jerked her head but said nothing.

She scanned the great expanse of fields and felt her heart stop in her chest. Was Will out there, lying cold and lifeless in the bloody soil? She banished the thought immediately and rather focused on the present. She would be of no use if she worried about him; she would find her husband later.

Suddenly, a great call from Théoden shook her out of her thoughts. "Arise! Arise, riders of Théoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword-day! A red day, ere the sun rises!"

Elizabeth watched Merry, who now sat in front of Éowyn, sit up straighter and lift his head. Anamaria put a hand on the hilt of her sword, and Elizabeth made sure her own was in reach.

The king continued. "Ride now, ride now, ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending! Death!"

And the Rohirrim around them called out "Death!" in reply.

"Death!" called the king once more.

"Death!" called out the soldiers, and Elizabeth heard Éowyn and Merry join in the cries. She glanced at her remaining companion.

"Death!" came the cry one last time.

"_Death!_" cried Anamaria and Elizabeth with the rest of the army.

And before they knew what was happening, they were charging down with the Rohirrim to meet their doom.

Time slowed for Anamaria. She lost sight of her friends and the other Rohirrim as Brego galloped into battle, her eyesight knowing only the carnage that lay before her. She knew that others around her were being shot down from their horses, and that the horses themselves were being shot at, tripping from the impact and falling to a swift demise. She heard short, loud cries as men tumbled and were trampled to death. She was sure that at one point in the charge an arrow just narrowly avoided impaling itself into Brego's head. In the end, though, it was not until she realized that orcs were constantly dying under the horses' hooves that she came back to reality.

Drawing her sword quickly out of its sheath, the young woman held tightly to the reins with her left hand while she maneuvered her sword awkwardly with her right. She had only done this once before during the Warg battle, and she hated it just as much now as she had then. Thankfully, Brego seemed to know what he was doing, for he went around various allies and enemies with dexterity. He was well experienced with the battlefield atmosphere.

As the charge ended, the riders began to fall out of formation and split into various directions. Seeing Éowyn and Merry, who had remained close to her throughout the charge, suddenly go right, she jerked Brego in that direction- she had made a promise to herself to keep an eye on the Rohir, and she cared deeply for Merry as well. The dark woman could not see Elizabeth nearby and only hoped that her companion was following somewhere close behind.

A few minutes later, when Brego saved her once again from turning both of them right towards an orc sword and a rather bloody death, she gave up with the helmet. Its main purpose as a disguise had been served; she was going to get herself killed with its limited vision. Anamaria quickly tugged off the helm and, seeing an orc nearby, flung it at him and watched with a smirk as he fell to the ground, left to the mercy of a group of galloping riders. It was simple kills like that that made life all the more interesting.

She found that, while certainly not as simple as fighting on her own two feet, the lack of helm made her time in battle much easier. Brego seemed to be keen on following Éowyn without too much of her guidance, so she rather concentrated on killing anything that approached her, and the orcs found her and her steed difficult to surprise. The woman cried in fury and decapitated an orc that attempted to skewer her on her right, and without thinking kicked at another beast coming at her on the left. While the orc fell back, Anamaria's ankle immediately protested and she let out a short cry before taking out her pain on yet another orc. She had forgotten about her wound; the charge into battle had taken her mind completely off it.

To her surprise, there were currently no orcs within a ten-foot radius attempting to kill her or one of the Rohirrim. She glanced up and watched as the enemy began running away to the east. Were they giving up already? She quickly steered Brego over to Éowyn and Merry and asked.

"I am not certain," the other woman replied. "If they are, they will likely come back." She glanced behind Anamaria and frowned. "Where is Elizabeth?"

"I thought she was following me," the other woman confessed. "She must have lost us in the charge."

Before they could continue their conversation, a great horn call came from the east. Out of the dark and into their sight suddenly came the shapes of the largest animal any of them had ever seen before. Thrice the height of a man and grey in color, the beasts each bore long snouts and four great white tusks decorated with symbols and sharp spikes. Upon their backs they carried what looked to be platforms filled with dozens of men. The orcs continued to run to their reinforcements, swiftly dodging the animals and falling behind them.

"What the hell are those things?" Anamaria asked in ill-concealed horror.

"I do not know," Éowyn replied grimly, grasping her bloodied sword tightly. "I have never seen such beasts before."

Merry gaped. "It- it looks like one of Sam's oliphaunts!"

"What?" was the only thing Anamaria could say, but before Merry could clarify, the horns of the Rohirrim sounded.

"We must reform the line!" Éowyn clarified the horn's message to her companion, and the other woman followed her lead as they fell back in line, a couple dozen rows away from the front of the formation. If any of the Rohirrim were surprised by the dark-haired, dark-skinned woman with them, they said nothing to her.

Another horn call came, and a great shout came from the soldiers as they began to charge forward. Brego, well used to such sounds and formations, did not need Anamaria's commands to begin to charge. She idly wondered for a moment if the horse realized what he was charging at, for her first instinct was to run in the opposite direction. The beasts looked as if they could kill her with one shake of their head.

As a group of Rohirrim in the front of the procession were caught on the tusks of the beasts and tossed away as if they were rag dolls, Anamaria realized that these animals could kill her all too easily. However, before she could even think about turning the horse around and approaching the orcs from another avenue, Éowyn and Merry rode around one of the beasts and Brego followed.

A list of expletives escaped her lips and she shut her eyes as she ducked, expecting at any moment to feel one of the tusks and a quick sensation of weightlessness before falling and being trampled to death. When the woman remained on the horse for another ten seconds, she dared to open her eyes.

They made it past the row of monsters! To say she was relieved would be one of the greatest understatements of her life. Anamaria sat up straight once more, quickly impaling an orc who thought to come upon her while she was distracted, before looking around for her companions. They were not too far away, but to her dismay and utter frustration, it looked as if Éowyn was riding _towards_ one of the beasts. The animals were now out of formation and running precariously around the battlefield, a danger to both friend and foe on the ground, and the Rohir had singled one out. She had no idea why her friend was heading back to one of them; there seemed to be no way to take them down. Indeed, it looked as if those who were able to shoot at the creatures were doing little to hurt them. The arrows seemed to annoy them more than harm them.

Just as that thought escaped her mind, one of the grey animals suddenly careened to the left, straight into another. The unsteady animal impaled the other with his tusks, and the heavy weight of the second easily crushed the first's head, leaving both of the creatures dead on the field.

'_That was unexpected_,' she thought sardonically. '_Two down, twenty-some more to go.'_

She turned her eyes away from them and saw that Éowyn and Merry had made some distance in the short time it took the two beasts to topple one another. Quickly kicking Brego into action (and ignoring her ankle when it protested once more with a burning pain), she headed straight towards the two of them. If that crazy woman was going to try to take one of the animals down with only a hobbit to help her, she might as well be there to make sure that they both stayed alive.

Anamaria was not quite sure what Éowyn was planning to do to kill the beast, but the last thing that came to her mind was riding under the creature. She watched in grudging respect as the woman used her and Merry's blades to cut deeply into all four of the animal's legs.

Suddenly she sensed something to her left, and it was only just in time that Anamaria parried an orc's scimitar. She blocked another blow and then swiftly delivered her own lethal strike. Just as she yanked her blade out of the dead orc, Brego unexpectedly reared and the woman, distracted by the attack, lost her balance and fell to the ground, landing on her stomach. She quickly rolled over and was greeted by yet another orc about to slaughter her. Anamaria rolled away just in time and the foul creature's blade was momentarily stuck in the ground. The woman used this moment to get a foot under her and thrust her sword into the creature's abdomen. Blood flowed from his mouth and stomach as she swiftly withdrew her weapon.

Anamaria stood up, careful not to put too much weight on her left foot. Seeing no more orcs trying to kill her, she looked around for her steed and, to her complete exasperation, discovered that he was gone. The woman soon found, however, the reason Brego had reared. The body of the large grey animal that Éowyn and Merry wounded had fallen right where the horse once stood. Her steed had obviously become frightened, followed his instincts, and run off. In the end, while she was frustrated, Anamaria could not completely blame him; decent fellow or not, he was still only a horse, and horses had their limits. Being nearly crushed by a horrendous giant of a creature seemed to be Brego's.

But where were Éowyn and Merry? She suddenly realized that she could not see them anymore. Surely they had gotten out of the way when the beast fell...

Suddenly panicking, she half-ran, half-limped straight to the large corpse, heedless of the enemies around her. This proved to be her downfall.

Anamaria cried in agony as a searing pain burst throughout her left thigh, causing her leg to collapse beneath her. She glanced at it and was slightly surprised to see an arrow sticking out of her flesh. That certainly explained things. Swiftly realizing that the arrow likely did not hit her by accident, she turned around as carefully as well as quickly as she was able to towards the direction from which the arrow had come from.

Ten feet away stood not an orc, but a Man, one of the Southrons that was aboard one of the creatures and had somehow managed to survive and remain unhurt after its fall. He held a bow in his hands, and an arrow was nocked and aimed straight at her chest. She growled softly under her breath, her hand tightening on her elvish sword; she knew it was unlikely she would survive this hit, but she would not go down like a coward and certainly not without a fight.

Her enemy seemed surprised to see that not only was it not a man that he aimed his arrow at, but that this enemy looked closer to him in appearance rather than the fair-skinned, blond Rohirrim she fought with. As Anamaria slowly rose to her feet, her expression fearless even in defeat, the Southron hesitated for a moment, a strange light within his eyes. They stared at one another, heedless to the battle around them, and just as Anamaria thought she may be getting out of this alive, the light disappeared, the man's eyes hardening once more. He raised the bow and began to pull back upon the string while the woman planned on attempting to jump out of the way and somehow making it back on her feet before the other decapitated her.

Suddenly the soldier cried out in pain and fell to one knee. He released the arrow and Anamaria instinctively leapt out of the way, careful not to land upon her left leg. The arrow missed her completely, but she was too busy controlling her pain to notice. She forced herself to gain her bearings and turned once more to the Southron to see what had happened.

He was on the ground, dead. Standing before his body, blade stained with the blood of both orcs and Men, was Merry. His face was grim as he looked down at the corpse and the woman could only stare. It was at this moment that Anamaria realized that Merry was not the same hobbit that she had met six months ago.

Merry turned to face his companion and his frown turned into concern as he spotted the arrow in her thigh. He ran over and knelt beside her, worry etched in his features.

"It's nothing," she said before he could say anything. "Nothing permanent, I mean," she amended at his look.

He only shook his head. "We have to get you out of here. You can barely stand-"

"I'll be fine," she snapped. "Where's Éowyn?"

"I don't know; I lost her when the oliphaunt fell."

Anamaria only nodded and pulled herself to her knees. Merry glanced at the arrow, then at her for permission, and at her terse nod he swiftly snapped the protruding shaft from her leg, leaving only a small part sticking out. Ripping off a part of his long shirt, he quickly wrapped the cloth around her leg and near the remaining part of the shaft tightly.

"That will have to do for now," he said with a shrug. She nodded her thanks and glanced at the soldier that the hobbit just killed.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. She eyed his bloodied weapon once more and slightly smiled. "And you used Galadriel's dagger, too. I knew you'd put that to good use."

He smiled slightly in return before becoming grim once more. "I couldn't see another one of my friends die. Not again."

She nodded, but whatever she was going to say was quickly forgotten when she focused her gaze behind him. "We have company!" Merry spun around and grabbed both his dagger and his sword. Anamaria pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the burning sensation that ran now through her left thigh as well as her left ankle and put all of her weight on her right foot. She would be damned before she let the two wounds hinder her.

A group of three orcs came at them, and before she could even think about some sort of strategy Merry charged them, a movement that seemed to surprise both her and the creatures. He took that moment to stab one of them in the stomach, an act that quickly spurred the remaining two into action once more. One of them charged at Anamaria, his scimitar raised high in the air.

She ducked his initial swipe for her head, and blocked the next blow, ignoring the pain it shot through her leg and taking a couple steps back to regain her balance. He immediately charged at her again, and she evaded two more strikes before swinging down and hitting him right in his side. He howled in pain and fury, but before he could retaliate, the woman stabbed him in the upper chest.

There was no reprieve as suddenly another orc came upon her, forcing her to take several steps back to keep her balance. As soon as she killed him, yet another orc came at her, nearly taking her by surprise as it tried to grasp her arm and force her to stay still so he could slaughter her. The young woman managed to evade his first blow, and rather than continue trying to yank her wrist from the grasp of the stronger beast, Anamaria decided to throw a punch into his face. The attack surprised him and his grasp loosened on her right arm, allowing her to pull herself free and stab him in the chest.

When she saw no more enemies immediately attacking her, she breathed deeply and took a glance at her surroundings. She had moved much further away than she had thought from the grey animal's carcass, and to her dismay Merry was nowhere to be found. Her thoughts were broken when another enemy tried to slaughter her, and Anamaria swiftly realized that, with her left leg in the condition it was in, she was lucky just to be standing; she simply could not waste her strength moving about and looking for her friends. She could only hope that Merry would find Éowyn and remain safe.

'_But then again_,' she thought grimly, '_he's in less need of help than me._'

She felt more than heard yet another approaching her, and she turned just in time to see another Southron, this one with a halberd, spot her and begin to approach her. Before she could even ready herself for his attack, he was suddenly killed by a young, dark-haired man adorned in armor that she did not recognize. He swiftly withdrew his blade from the body and then turned to her, ready to attack. She lifted her sword to defend herself, but he stopped short when he took a good look at her face.

"The Haradrim send their women to war?" he asked himself.

"I'm not with them," she quickly countered, carefully taking a step back and, as usual, ignoring the pain in her leg. "I came with Rohan."

The man looked surprised at her answer, and then puzzled as he glanced her over once more. "You are not one of the Rohirrim."

"You are remarkably observant," she retorted. Anamaria was not sure if he was offended or amused by her answer, but he did seem at a loss on what to say. As it was, it did not seem as if he would try spontaneously to slaughter her anymore. Lowering her sword, she decided to fill in the silence. "Are you from Minas Tirith?"

"Yes, lady," he supplied. While his expression was slightly guarded, she was almost positive that he would not try to kill her. Nonetheless, while both of their swords were lowered, neither of them sheathed their weapons.

"I didn't realize you people were out here fighting."

"We have been fighting inside and out of the City for two days," he said. "We-"

"Watch out!" Anamaria interrupted. Even if she were perfectly hale, she would still have been too far to help the Gondorian soldier. An orc that had been knocked unconscious earlier but had managed to stay alive throughout the battle suddenly rose from behind the man, knife held high. Her warning was enough for him to evade the lethal blow, but he could not avoid it completely. The orc stabbed him in the right shoulder and he cried out in anguish, involuntarily dropping his weapon in the process. Before he could recover from the sudden onslaught of pain and retaliate, the orc tore out the knife and struck him in the head with his fist. The young man fell and the beast went to kill him.

Suddenly the orc found a sword through his chest, dead before it could see the identity of his killer. The Gondorian, however, saw clearly that it was Anamaria who had made it to his side in time to save his life.

She pulled her sword out of the beast's ribcage and knelt beside the man, unable to hide a wince as her leg flared up once more. The man saw this and noticed the cloth wrapped around her leg just then.

"You are wounded!" he said concernedly. He pulled himself up to his knees, his lips thinning in pain as his shoulder protested.

"That's a pot calling a kettle black," she pointed out wryly. She glanced around the area, expecting enemies at any moment to come after them, but it seemed as if the battle had shifted to the east, leaving them one of the few people alive in this area of the battlefield. While she would admit it to no one, it was a welcome reprieve.

The woman half crawled, half dragged herself behind him to see his wound. She winced at the ragged cut. "That looks bad, mate. You need to get yourself out of here and get back to your city."

The young man turned himself around and shot her an incredulous look. "I am not leaving you out here by yourself!"

She rolled her eyes. "I've survived this long already, and there's nothing left alive around here, as is. I can take care of myself. Besides," she added when he looked like he was going to retort, "I'm not dragging myself all the way to the city; it looks a good mile away from here. So unless you find a crutch somewhere nearby, I'll be staying here."

"I will carry you," he pointed out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She burst out laughing- a strange sound to be heard in such a place. "That's not happening. Besides, your shoulder couldn't handle it."

He looked slightly offended by her claim, but his offense slowly turned into amusement. "I have never met a woman as audacious as you."

She snorted, but did not reply to the comment. Rather she said, "Call me Anamaria."

The young man smiled. "Anamaria. Well met. I am Amrothos, son of Imrahil."

She nodded slowly. "If that name is supposed to mean something, I'm afraid I don't know it."

He opened his mouth to reply but suddenly a series of loud, short horn calls interrupted him, chasing all other thoughts away. His face became pale and he turned to Anamaria, despair etched in his glance. "That was my father's horn. The call indicates that yet another enemy approaches. I fear that the Corsairs of Umbar, long enemies of Gondor, have finally come."

The woman paled. Corsairs? Were not the others supposed to defeat them? If these pirates were here, then where were her friends?

Was her captain even alive?

O0O0O0O

It was tall, to say the least. He would give them that.

Nonetheless, he imagined it looked a bit more impressive when it was not surrounded by columns of smoke and a gathering of people greater than he had ever seen at once in his life. From what he could see, the battle surrounding Minas Tirith made Helm's Deep look like a forgettable skirmish.

"If the battle at Helm's Deep were a pistol," the captain commented idly to his companion, "then this is the artillery of the _Black Pearl_."

"And the forces of Mordor the whole of the Royal Navy," Will responded, "if Aragorn is right in his suppositions."

Jack's brow rose. "He thinks there are more of these types of battles to come?"

"I cannot read him well, but he mentioned something about them not using all of their forces in one blow. Sauron likely expects to win, but he won't be caught unprepared if he loses this battle."

"Jolly good," was Jack's only reply.

"Your optimism is ever encouraging," came a wry response from behind them. As one, the two men turned and Jack frowned as he glanced at the speaker. "You seem to disapprove of my appearance," Aragorn added.

"And you seem to have been pilfering the loot below the ship," Jack added. He left 'without me' unspoken.

Halbarad, who stood by his chieftain's side, looked offended on his behalf, but Elrond's sons who stood to the other side laughed as one. One of them- Jack still could not tell them apart- said, "We brought the Elendilmir with us when we rode from Rivendell. It belongs to Aragorn by birthright."

"So it has a name," was Will's only response, still taking in the uncanny brightness of the gem upon Aragorn's forehead.

"Everything has a name here," Jack pointed out. "Isn't that right, Bonnie?" he added, pulling out his pistol and smiling at it lovingly.

Aragorn ignored the other man and set his eyes upon the city that now lay in sight. "Minas Tirith," he muttered. "May it be that our coming turns the tide of battle."

"That's the spirit!" Jack chirped from behind him.

Halbarad ignored the strange man as he turned to Aragorn. "Shall I raise the banner, lord?"

The Dúnadan nodded. "We are near the docks of Harlond and if the people of the City do not yet see us, they will soon; the black sails will alarm them and they should know that we are friends, and I deem the White Tree upon their own ship will fill the hosts of Mordor with dread."

As Halbarad raised aloft a great banner adorned with a crown, seven stars lined in mithril, and the symbol of the White Tree that glinted in the sunlight, and Elladan and Elrohir went down below to retrieve those of the Dúnedain who were not yet on deck and to prepare the horses, Will and Jack left the bow and joined Legolas and Gimli at the stern. Legolas was looking south towards the many boats filled with men of Lamedon, Lebennin, and all other sorts who were near Pelargir and could be gathered in time. The elf, however, glanced not at the boats, but far into the sky where they could see a flock of gulls, oblivious to the war so far below them.

"He hasn't much changed, has he?" Jack asked with a cock of the head.

"'fraid not," Gimli muttered.

"Maybe we should just leave him here," Will said, worry evident in his voice. "You can ride with me, Gimli."

"Do not speak as if I am not here," Legolas put in, a touch of amusement in his tone. He turned away from the water and glanced at his friends. "The Lady Galadriel knew I would be plagued by their call when I came to the Sea, but I have not left Middle-earth yet my friends, not yet. I will fight." He glanced at Gimli and a large smile broke upon his face. "As it is, I would think you were attempting to back out of our agreed rematch."

Gimli sputtered indignantly. "Back out! A dwarf never backs out! And I will defeat you here just as I did at Helm's Deep!"

The two continued to banter with one another even as the rest of the Dúnedain with their horses came on deck. They only quieted as the ship approached the harbor of Harlond, and Jack and Will, both thoroughly distracted by the intense debate between the dwarf and the seemingly normal elf, took the time finally to take in their surroundings. Halbarad had lowered the standard and was once more carrying it, a grim and proud look upon his features. Only two Dúnedain were actually not astride their horses, but were rather near the ship's gangplank, prepared to lower it to the great dock. Beyond Harlond was a great expanse of field before the City, and all the area in between was filled with battle and its remains.

But sitting before the Grey Company prepared to meet the battle was Aragorn, the green stone upon his breast glinting brightly, the Elendilmir shining upon his brow like a star, and Andúril alit in his hand as if burning with its own inner fire. It was at that moment that Jack Sparrow realized that, even if he had his own doubts about Earth's various monarchs, this man was _born_ a leader of Men. He sat back in his saddle, expecting some sort of long and inspiring speech.

The gangplank was lowered. "Elendil!" Aragorn cried aloud, and without further delay rode down to the docks and galloped towards the battle. That seemed enough for the others, for Halbarad, the sons of the Elrond, and the rest of the Dúnedain quickly spurred on after him.

'_Ah, yes. That's why I like him_,' Jack thought to himself as he urged Nithhad forward. He soon had little time for thought as they galloped from the docks and came upon the enemy.

Will, who rode near Jack as they charged into battle, soon found himself separated from his companion. Indeed, very quickly the young man realized that he was all but surrounded by strangers, both allies and enemies, and he had to double check time after time and make sure that he was not attempting to attack someone on his side.

To his relief, he spotted someone he recognized in the midst of all the chaos: Halbarad, still astride his horse, held the banner proudly even as he stabbed, slashed, kicked, and decapitated the enemies that came to him. And many enemies came, for they were drawn to the banner-carrier as moths are drawn to a flame. Seeing him quickly becoming surrounded and separated from other allies, Will made straight towards him, hoping to be of some assistance.

"They do seem to be attracted to you!" Will said in greeting as Wistan kicked and trampled one of the orcs bothering Halbarad.

"So it would seem," was the Ranger's only answer. He used the end of the long pole that held the banner to bash an orc's head. Will took the moment the orc used to recover to relieve the creature of said head.

"Not as clean as Aragorn's beheadings, but they work," Will half-shrugged, avoiding a spear and answering the thrust with a kick and a quick slash.

"Speaking of which-" Another guttural cry as a larger orc died. "-have you seen him?"

"I'm afraid-" A couple of parries and another thrust. "-not recently. He mentioned on the ship that he would look for Éomer, for he expected-" A lunge, one sidestep by Wistan, and another dead orc. "-him to be here. Have you seen Jack?"

He killed another enemy, a Southron this time, before responding. "I'm afraid not. I thought-" Halbarad used the long pole of the banner again to stun his attacker before decapitating him. "-he was with you."

Will ducked to avoid what looked to be a spear, though he could not be sure. "He was- until I lost him." Another blade aimed for his head, another block, parry, thrust, and another dead orc. This was becoming repetitive. At least his horse seemed to be handling himself well.

The battle continued as such for the next few minutes, every now and again a soldier or two of Gondor or Rohan coming nearby to change the pace of battle before they found themselves surrounded mostly by enemies. Even though Will knew that they were not nearly this outnumbered nor far away from allies, the orcs and men under the Great Eye were so drawn to the standard that Halbarad bore that they often found themselves with no allies immediately about them.

Suddenly Halbarad's horse reared, and while Halbarad was able to hold on, the enemies about him used the sudden distraction to kill the banner-carrier once and for all. A great Uruk of Mordor raised his scimitar high and prepared to deliver a fatal blow onto the man.

The strike never came. The Uruk staggered as a sharp object flew into his lower neck, and without a sound he collapsed. Halbarad saw an elvish dagger sticking out of the carcass, and glancing up he saw Will about ten feet away, a slightly surprised look on his face.

"I didn't think that'd actually work," he said as he came closer. Either their enemies had shifted away or they had killed more than they had realized, for the two of them had a sudden reprieve. Breathing heavily, Will quickly dismounted to retrieve his dagger. "Would rather not lose this. As is," he said as he climbed back onto his steed, "there's a large group of people under a flag with a swan, westwards. They look friendly enough."

"Dol Amroth," Halbarad clarified. "Very friendly. Aragorn, more likely than not, is headed that way as well. Let us go."

Will nodded and turned westwards, but saw what was once a relatively clear path west now blocked by some sort of huge, grey animal violently careening to and fro around the battlefield. "What in God's name-"

"_Mûmak_," Halbarad filled in. He decapitated a stray orc before turning back to it.

"Right. Let's find a way past that thing and _then_ find the group with the swan flag."

"That is a sound plan." With that, the two headed westwards in search of their allies, the standard bearing the seven stars and the White Tree still standing strong.

O0O0O0O

The last he heard of one of his friends was Gimli loudly calling out, "Seventeen!" to whoever was interested in listening. He was not quite sure if Gimli ever made it to eighteen or was now lying dead in a pool of his own blood, for his horse was quite content to do whatever it well pleased without listening to him for one moment.

Jack rather hoped that Gimli had made it to eighteen and all other numbers besides until the enemy was vanquished. He was rather fond of the dwarf, and Legolas would be nigh unbearable if his friend did meet his death in some unfortunate, untimely manner. As it was, he could little concentrate on that at the moment, for he had to exert all of his energy and willpower on two things: controlling his horse, and keeping his own body in one piece.

Nithhad, while bearable enough in normal times, had his own head when in battle. It helped him when he had other horses to follow, but the moment they fell out of formation he went his own way, paying little heed to Jack's kicks or words. The only benefit of this situation was that the horse was looking after his own hide and so more often avoided orcs rather than charged at them.

The captain supposed that Nithhad's old owner had known him for much longer and had a great deal more control over him, but the old nag was well content to ignore all of Jack's commands and do whatever his instincts told him to. Because of this, the man found himself quickly away from his friends and very soon on the other side of the battlefield. To say it was a bothersome situation would be an understatement.

But suddenly the horse stopped in its tracks and Jack was hard-pressed to stay on. However he managed was beyond his knowledge, but his attention was quickly drawn away from how he was able to keep his seat to why Nithhad had stopped in the first place.

A few yards away from him was one of the only enemies he ever encountered in his lifetime that made his blood turn into ice. A Nazgûl. While his normal presence was enough to make Jack want to turn around and run far, far away, he also wore a helm that looked as if it could impale someone and carried a mace that was too large for any normal human being to hold, somehow making him even more terrifying than before- something that Jack had not thought possible.

Standing before him was a lithe soldier and behind the soldier was a white horse crushing half the body of another man. His eyes widened as he recognized the body; it was the king of Rohan! He did not look dead, but Jack would have been very surprised if he lived to see the night.

Suddenly the Nazgûl swung his mace towards the soldier guarding the king, and the man managed to jump out of the way. The Ringwraith swung again and this time the soldier dropped down to avoid it. However, after a quick parry the dark fiend swung the mace into the soldier's shield, causing him to cry in pain and fall to his knees. The Nazgûl swooped down and lifted the hapless man by the throat, and while he could not make out his words, Jack knew that the servant of Sauron was speaking to the soldier.

Every sense in his body yelled at the captain to draw his gun and shoot the fell creature, but the same power that held his horse still in fear seemed to have the same hold over him. He knew not why he was so powerless now when he had managed against the Dark Lord's servants at Weathertop a few months ago, but it seemed to him that this Nazgûl, at the least, had grown in power.

All of a sudden, the Ringwraith lost his grip upon the soldier's throat and hissed in pain and anger, falling to his knees. From behind him came another cry of pain, and Jack recognized another person. Merry!

Before he could even think about attempting to make his way to him, the soldier pulled his helmet off his head and the captain realized that it was not a man, but a woman, and a woman he recognized. '_What in the world is Éowyn doing here?_'

She said firmly, loudly enough for him to hear, "I am no man," before thrusting her sword straight through him, where his head would be if he had a visible head. The Nazgûl let out an even greater cry of fury and pain, but her strike seemed to do the trick; his body shrunk and caved in onto itself, letting out a great tremor before finally collapsing, leaving behind only black robes and scarred earth.

This final act seemed to bring both Jack and Nithhad out of their daze. Before the horse could dart off into another random area on the battlefield, the man yanked firmly on the reins and growled at him. "Bad horse. Go to Merry and Éowyn, you damn nag." To his relief and slight bewilderment, the horse actually listened to him, trotting gently over to the two and stopping just a few feet from the remains of the Nazgûl. His eyes first turned to the woman, but she did not acknowledge him- rather she was slowly crawling over to her uncle's body, her wounded shield-arm pressed against her chest. He did not want to interrupt her and so rather turned his attention to Merry.

Quickly dismounting the horse and not particularly caring if the beast ran off without him, the captain made his way to Merry who, much to his dismay, was near unconsciousness, despite the fact that he could see no visible wound on him. He too held his arm to his chest as if in severe pain, despite the fact that he had only stabbed the Ringwraith.

As he went to kneel beside the hobbit, he spotted in the corner of his eye something that was certainly not human. Swiftly turning around and drawing his pistol, his eyes caught sight of possibly the ugliest thing he had ever seen in his life. While it was dressed as an orc, the creature's flesh was lighter than most other orcs and the left side of his face seemed to be covered in large boils. Whatever it was, it was limping over to Éowyn who did not seem to acknowledge it.

Jack quickly rushed over to it and caught its attention when he was about ten feet away. Now that he was closer, he could see the details of the creature's face much more clearly and his face contorted in disgust. "You are one ugly orc- if that's what you are," he commented idly. The beast growled at him. "Sorry, I was just being honest," he said, flashing him a quick grin.

The other did not take kindly to this. Seeing that the other's sword was still hanging in its sheath, the orc charged at the man, eager to take his life.

Jack lazily brought up his pistol and shot the orc in the face. It collapsed into a heap.

"You completely deserved that," he said to the corpse. Seeing no other threats in the area, he turned about and made his way back to Merry to help him in any way he could.

O0O0O0O

It happened so quickly that he was not quite sure _how_ it happened. One moment he and Halbarad were trotting along as smoothly as one can trot in the midst of battle, coming upon not too many enemies and easily avoiding the huge creature blocking their way to the host with the swan flag. The next moment the grey beast suddenly came charging their way, and while the Dúnadan avoided the _mûmak _Will did not have nearly as much skill as he. The young man ended up jerking the reins as he came upon the grey beast and the horse, misreading his queue, haphazardly reared and turned around. Will lost his balance and fell off Wistan while his steed ran quickly away from the danger of the _mûmak_.

He was admittedly somewhat surprised when the large animal simply stepped over him and continued its way blunderingly about the field, but his surprise turned into frustration as he realized that neither his horse nor Halbarad were in sight. He turned about as he looked for them and just in time turned to see an orc aim a blade towards him. The blacksmith brought up his own sword to parry him, and while still in the hold he took out his knife and stabbed the creature in the side. As the orc cried in pain, Will took that moment to break the hold and decapitate him, ending his screams forever.

Before he could regain his composure, the hilt of a knife crashed down upon his head. The young man stumbled and fell, conscious but sluggish. He turned on his back and knew that he had just enough time to watch the Southron who had struck his head thrust his spear into his abdomen.

Suddenly the man's eyes widened, and Will could only watch as his enemy fell to his knees and then to the ground, an arrow sticking out of his back. It seemed as if he would live to fight another day.

Will pulled himself off the ground, his eyes darting from the fallen foe to the soldier who shot him down. It was one of the Rohirrim who saved his life. Rather than galloping away as he thought the man would do, the archer headed straight towards him.

"You need to pay more attention to your surroundings; it's a wonder you survived for so long without me!"

He knew that voice... "Elizabeth! What in God's name are you doing here?" She was supposed to be far away from here!

"Saving your sorry head, it seems!" his wife retorted.

"You should not be here!"

"I don't believe this is the best time to talk about it," the woman snapped. "Now where are the others?"

Will wanted to continue and demand his own answers, but he put aside his curiosity and slight frustration and replied, "I am not sure; I was with Halbarad before that beast charged through and unhorsed me. We were headed towards the group with the swan banner. They're friends."

"Sounds good to me. Hop on," she said shortly. Finding no reason to protest and certainly no room in her tone allowing _for_ protest, he leapt onto the horse behind Elizabeth and held onto her shoulder with one hand while the other held his sword out, ready to slaughter anyone who came near. It seemed, however, that the battle was finally ending; the last of the men from Pelargir were joining the battle at docks of Harlond and many orcs were fleeing eastwards. Most of the _mûmakil_ were dead or dying, and the last of the living beasts were being rounded up and brought down by various horsemen. There were still enemies left, but it was clear the Free Peoples of Middle-earth outnumbered them.

And beyond all of this, Minas Tirith was still standing.


	37. Reunions

For those who don't remember/haven't read the book: Imrahil is Faramir's and Boromir's uncle through their mother. He is a pretty important guy and I missed him a bit in the films, his absence justified or no.

This was originally going to cover the Houses of Healing as well, but it was becoming so long that I decided to split it up so I could get in a chapter before the year ended.

And, just to be on the safe side, a few lines (especially dialogue) are taken directly from the text. I lay no claim to them and this is for fun, non-profit entertainment only.

* * *

Chapter 37: Reunions

In the distance the final living _mûmak_ of the Haradrim fell. The last of the living orcs fled long ago, and the few Southrons that remained within the fields fought their last stand. As the last skirmish finished, an unnatural silence came over the battlefield, but when it ended the defenders of Minas Tirith did not cheer or sing in victory. The only sounds on the plain were hurried orders to find any that may yet be alive, moans of the wounded attempting to make their way back to the City, and soft murmurs of blessings for the dead.

A half mile from the Great Gate of Minas Tirith met three leaders of Men: Aragorn with his company of Dúnedain, Éomer and a small company of Rohirrim, and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth with a gathering of his own soldiers. A black banner adorned with a white tree flew with a white horse on a green field and a silver swan on a blue sea as the three conjoined.

"Never was a meeting among friends more joyful," said Éomer with a weary, but genuine smile. "I had not looked to see you again, Aragorn."

"It was a desperate path," admitted Aragorn, "and yet the most desperate of choices can prove the wisest when all is ended. Tell me, where is the king?"

"I have not seen my uncle since the Southrons came upon us," admitted the young man. "Gamling?" The older man shook his head, and Éomer turned his glance towards the thousands of people- both living and dead- on the wide field. A hint of worry shaded his eyes but he said nothing on it.

Prince Imrahil, a middle-aged Gondorian with a few grey streaks in his dark hair, studied both Aragorn and the banner that Halbarad still held aloft intently. "Speaking about kings," he started almost conversationally, "what are your intentions concerning Minas Tirith, Lord Aragorn?"

"The City has remained in the charge of the Stewards for many long years, and so it shall be for now, at the least. I shall lay no claim until it be seen whether we or Mordor prevail. I have no mind for strife except with the Enemy and his servants."

Imrahil slowly nodded. "Your words are wise; the Lord Steward Denethor is strong-willed and proud, and his mood has been strange since he received news of his eldest son's death."

Aragorn nodded. "Then it is best to lay politics aside until this war is over." He took off the Elendilmir and gave it to Elladan, and then bid Halbarad to furl the banner. As his kinsman did so, the Dúnadan noticed that a few of his companions were missing from their company. "Kinsman, have you seen the others?"

Halbarad shook his head. "I was with Will for a time, but we became separated when a _mûmak _came our way. I have not seen the others."

"I saw Legolas and Gimli not too long ago shouting numbers out to one another," said Elrohir with a small smile. "If they remained together, I imagine they are well."

As they gazed upon the war-stricken field and the post-battle activity, Imrahil's brow suddenly furrowed. "Amrothos?" The others followed his gaze and saw but a few yards away a young, dark-haired Gondorian supporting a dark-skinned woman that could only be one person.

"Anamaria?" Aragorn said, surprise clear in his voice.

"Aye!" she shouted as she limped towards them. Yes, it was most certainly her, dressed as one of the Rohirrim or no.

"Well met, father," said Amrothos with a strained smile. It was then, just as they came near, that Imrahil noticed that his son was also wounded. He leapt from his horse and drew closer to him, frowning as he inspected his shoulder. "It is only a flesh wound," the young man assured him. The older man did not look pleased nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" Aragorn asked Anamaria.

"Fighting. Or, well, was," she answered as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"I assume this is one of your companions," said Imrahil, inspecting the woman astutely. She, being in no mood to play staring games seeing as her left leg was on fire, ignored him.

"Yes, but _she_ is supposed to be in _Rohan_ resting her leg," Aragorn stressed with a raised eyebrow.

She waved him off with her free hand. "It all-but healed over during the ride here. The only reason I'm like this now is because I still have an arrow in my thigh. While Merry was kind enough to snap the shaft, it does burn quite a bit and I would _love_ to have it removed."

The men only stared at her for half a moment before Éomer broke out, "The Holbytla is here as well?"

She glanced at the young man with what looked something like a sympathetic wince. "Err, yes. And Elizabeth and your sister are out there, too, though I haven't seen them in a while."

Éomer paled. When he regained his bearings, he only said, "Where?"

She pointed in the direction from which they had come from and, without another word, Éomer, Gamling, and a couple other soldiers rode off in that direction.

Elladan glanced at his brother, and when he nodded, they turned once more back to Amrothos and Anamaria. "It is clear that you both need medical attention. We shall take you to the Houses of Healing."

"You know where it is?" asked Amrothos. He was not sure who these two elves were, but if his father trusted them, then he did as well. He was especially curious about the small company of Men who belonged to neither Gondor nor Rohan, and their leader who seemed to know Anamaria; he would ask her about them later.

Elrohir smiled slightly. "This is not our first time in Minas Tirith, many years though it has been." The two young mortals, while they held a great amount of pride and would usually put on a facade, were both in a great deal of pain and consented to the elves' offer quickly. They swiftly mounted the horses and within a moment were off with the sons of Elrond towards the City.

Imrahil followed the four with his eyes for a moment and then glanced at the heir of Isildur. "An unusual choice of companion, Lord Aragorn. I would think her a Southron, but her accent is strange."

The other man's lips slightly quirked. "Wherever her heritage may lie, she is not from Harad or Khand."

The prince still seemed curious about her, but when Aragorn offered no further explanation, he bothered not to pursue it further for the moment and they and their company began once more their trek towards the City.

O0O0O0O

Elizabeth had not said a word to him ever since she picked him up, and that bothered Will more than he was willing to admit to himself. The fact that he knew exactly the reason for her anger only made the situation more uncomfortable, but the young man was even then justifying his actions to himself. He had forced her to stay behind because of his love for her, no more, no less. Why could she not understand that?

The moment the battle was over the woman had thrown her helm off, clearly glad that she did not need it anymore. Will wished that he could brush his hands through her hair, but he doubted she would appreciate the gesture and he had no desire to incur more of her wrath. Indeed, he did no more than hold onto her lightly so he would not fall.

The blacksmith idly wondered if she would care right now if he fell from the horse.

His thoughts were broken by an unexpected but happy sight: Legolas and Gimli standing near the large carcass of a _mûmak_, arguing with one another. Elizabeth spotted them the moment he did and did not need any word from him to steer her horse in their direction. When the two friends heard the horse and looked up at them, the surprise was clear on both of their faces.

"Elizabeth! What the blazes are you doing here?" Gimli asked.

"It will take a little more than a foul potion to keep me behind," she said coolly. Will was glad he was behind her; he had no desire to see her expression, nor for her to see his.

Legolas glanced between the two knowingly but said nothing on her comment. "Will, where is Wistan?"

"I fell off when he startled and I haven't seen him since; where is Arod?"

The elf broke into a smile. "My friend dwarf was kind enough to point out that we could hardly have a fair game with he on the horse, and so we left him at a stable at the docks, though we fell far behind the others because of it."

"It doesn't matter," the dwarf dismissed. "There was plenty for the both of us, the rest of our company, and more besides."

"What game are you talking about?" Elizabeth asked.

"A rematch of Helm's Deep," said Legolas. "Gimli won by a mere orc head then, and I knew that the results were very much out of the ordinary."

"Bah!" the dwarf scoffed. "I beat you then and I beat you now. Fifty-four to fifty-one!"

The elf rolled his eyes. "I already told you that there were at least ten men on top of the _mûmak_, and so that brings my score to sixty, at the least!"

"Those don't count. You only sliced the ropes of their carriage to make it fall; I saw it myself!"

"Wait," the woman interrupted. "You- you sliced the ropes that held that tower on top of one of those beasts? How in the world did you get up there?"

"I'm an elf," he replied as if it were an obvious answer. Gimli rolled his eyes.

The woman stared at him. "You destroyed a whole tower while you were on top of one of those creatures. Alright. But how on earth did you get _down_?"

"It was simple once I felled the _mûmak_," said Legolas with a shrug. Both Elizabeth and Will stared at him openly and the dwarf threw up his hands in frustration.

"That is not the point! Yes, the _mûmak_ was a point to you, but all those men on the tower were not killed by you; they were killed in the fall, and even then there is no guarantee that some of them did not survive."

"Certainly not all of them survived; it is much more likely that they perished, and they would have not fallen without _my_ direct action against the ropes that held the structure on top of the beast."

"You cannot give yourself points when you did not directly kill them, nonetheless when you do not know the exact number of those dead! Am I not right, friends?" Gimli suddenly asked, turning to the couple.

Legolas set his own intent gaze upon them, but suddenly his look softened into concern as Elizabeth shifted and the elf was able to see the other side of Will's head. "You are bleeding, Will," he said, touching the side of his own head to indicate the area.

The young man brought his hand up to his head and noticed, just beyond the hairline by his right ear, that he was indeed bleeding. "So I am," he muttered. "It must have happened when that man struck me."

"Get that seen to, lad," the dwarf all but ordered.

Legolas nodded in agreement. "There should be a healing house within the City. Ride into Minas Tirith and ask for it, and someone will surely tell you the way."

"So we shall," said Elizabeth, which surprised Will a bit. Well, at least she did not want to see him hurt, angry though she was. "Until later, my friends." The man echoed her statement.

They nodded in farewell, and as they rode off the two began their banter anew. Their argument about their game faded as the two rode in a slow canter towards Minas Tirith, their shadows long in the late afternoon sun. Inwer, with Elizabeth's few commands, made his way skillfully around the battlefield, avoiding the numerous bodies of friends and foes alike and ignoring the living making their way to and from the City, some carrying field supplies to the area and others aiding comrades out of it.

When they reached the entrance into the City, Elizabeth instinctively pulled back on the reins, yet neither she nor Will realized that they had stopped, so taken aback by the sight before them. While a path had been cleared to the Gate, the piles of bodies on the sides was a testament to the hours spent attacking Minas Tirith's weakest point. What truly took their breath away, however, was not the number of dead orcs, but rather what lay with them. A great battering ram, near one hundred feet in length and held aloft by some machine, stood to the side. The strange animals that once pulled the large contraption were among the fallen orcs and trolls, but even in defeat the battering ram decorated with foul words and a hideous face remained unscathed. Beyond it was a yawning entrance into the City, and what remained of the Gate was little. The shards of wood and steel scattered about and the few remnants that hung on the wall spoke more of an explosion than a battering ram.

"My God," Elizabeth muttered. "Surely the battering ram alone did not do that?" Will did not respond, his gaze fixated upon the beast head that adorned the end of the ram.

The woman gently pressed her legs against the horse and he began a steady trot as he entered the City. What they could see of the lowest level of Minas Tirith showed the obvious signs of war. Scorch marks covered large areas of the white walls that made up the city, and while soldiers were already clearing some sort of path as well as separating the dead, bodies of both allies and foes alike dotted the courtyard. Elizabeth briefly closed her eyes at the carnage while her husband's gaze hardened, and the former allowed the horse to make his own way through the streets, unable to focus too greatly on the sights before her. She had ridden quickly and purposefully through Pelennor, seeing little of the dead; it was only now that the full consequences of the battle hit her.

So caught up in her thoughts was she that the young woman almost missed her husband's surprised exclamation. "Pippin!" She blinked and glanced up, and indeed, further down the road, farther away from the carnage in the courtyard, was the hobbit. She spurred Inwer into a canter to meet up with him.

"Will! Elizabeth!" he exclaimed gladly, but there was a change in his countenance that was not there when they had last been together. Will's brow slightly furrowed as he attempted to place it; it seemed that even though there was genuine pleasure in his voice, a solemnity hung about him that had not been there even after his time with the Uruk-hai.

Elizabeth looked at his clothing bemusedly. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Oh, I joined the Guard," explained Pippin. "I pledged myself to-" He suddenly cut himself off and shook his head, a darkness passing over his gaze. "It's- it's not important. Anyways, I am glad you two are here! Where are the others? Did Merry come as well?"

"He came with the Rohirrim, alongside Anamaria, Éowyn, and I," said Elizabeth. "Aragorn and the others took another path." Her tone was calm, but Will was sure that he did not imagine the slight sharpness in the statement.

If Pippin noticed it, he did not mention it. "Another path? It was them coming in the Corsair ships, right?" At their confirmation, he continued. "So I thought, and I saw the banner with the White Tree, but everyone was ignoring me until they saw it themselves. I don't understand why they didn't simply trust my eyesight; it would have made the situation much easier."

"I cannot imagine why," said Will with a smile. The corners of his wife's lips also twitched, but she said nothing.

Pippin smiled, but his smile soon transformed into a slight frown. "Have you seen Merry recently? I was going down to see if I could find any of you, but I would like to see him soon; you know he can't take care of himself without me."

"I'm afraid not," answered Elizabeth. "I haven't seen him for quite some time; we became separated rather early in the battle."

The hobbit nodded solemnly. "Well, unless you need-" He suddenly cut himself off once more and his eyes widened in joy. "Anamaria!"

The couple turned as one and indeed coming up the road was Anamaria behind one of Elrond's sons on a horse. Riding beside them was the other son of Elrond as well as a young man unfamiliar to all of them.

"Pippin!" Anamaria cried, her gladness obvious. Elladan and Elrohir quickly trotted over to them and the woman leaned over and grabbed the hobbit's arm in what could only be described as an awkward embrace. She winced as her wounded leg jarred her with the motion, but she went along with her attitude towards it from the last few days and simply ignored it. "What in the world are you wearing?"

"I am a Guard of the Citadel," stated Pippin. "What are _you_ wearing?"

"We invited ourselves into the Rohan army and thought it would be best to blend in," she remarked with a half-smile.

"Forgive us for interrupting your reunion, Master Took," said Elladan, "but we must take these two to the Houses of Healing."

"We are headed there as well, actually," said Elizabeth, indicating to Will's head, "though we are not quite sure where they are."

"We know where the Houses are located," said Elrohir. "This is not our first time in the City. And it certainly looks as though you could benefit from some stitches, though it seems as if the bleeding has stopped," he added to Will.

Will nodded at the elf's statement, but his attention was captured rather upon the stranger behind Elrohir. He blinked and refocused on him because for a second he thought he saw Boromir. The young man noticed him staring and the blacksmith apologized. "Forgive me, but you remind me of one of my former companions."

"There is nothing to forgive; I am not offended," said the young man. "I am Amrothos, son of Imrahil."

"William Turner," said Will in greeting, "and my wife, Elizabeth." She nodded cordially.

Pippin perked at the Gondorian's name. "You are Prince Imrahil's son?"

"One of them," he replied with a slight smile. "And I have heard many things about you, _Ernil i Pheriannath_. It is a great honor to meet you."

Pippin only shrugged and muttered a thank you, but then he suddenly brought his head up as if something had just come to him. "Where is my mind- you said you were headed to the Houses of Healing! Something has happened, my lord," he started, directing his comment to Amrothos. "One reason I am down here is to find your father as soon as possible. The Steward of Gondor lies in the Houses of Healing."

The young prince frowned. "My lord uncle has been wounded?"

The hobbit hesitated. "My lord... Lord Denethor passed on this morning. Lord Faramir is now Steward, and he has become worse since yesterday. Gandalf wished me to find Lord Imrahil, for he said that the Prince of Dol Amroth rules Minas Tirith for now."

Amrothos' face became dark at this news, and for a moment, his wound was forgotten. "My father is just beyond the Great Gate, a half a mile away if not less. You will find him with the Swan Knights."

"Aragorn was with him, too, when we left them," Anamaria added.

Pippin nodded. "Thank you. I will find them, and then find the others- I hope Merry is well," he added worriedly.

"He is," Anamaria replied firmly.

Elladan nodded. "Go and fulfill your duty and find your friends. We must continue to the Houses."

Pippin nodded, and with a quick bow to Amrothos and a wave for the others, he swiftly went off towards the Gate. The others turned ahead and spurred the horses into a steady trot to the Houses of Healing.

O0O0O0O

The captain felt more than saw the battle come to an end, and yet he did not leave his place by Merry's side. The hobbit had become unconscious- from what, he could not tell- and so Jack had gently lifted his head into his lap. Now that he was basically the only one conscious- Éowyn, too, had fallen unconscious by her dead uncle's side- he was left alone with only the dead and his thoughts to keep him company.

As he stared at Merry's head, rather mechanically placed in his lap, he was not sure what to make of all of this. He would not have done this a year ago, perhaps not even six months ago, even though he held no grudges against the hobbits at the beginning, and Merry and Pippin had always been more light-hearted than the other two. He certainly had felt no affection for them, however, and he was honest enough with himself to realize that his feelings for all of his companions- even the insufferable Elizabeth- had grown.

It was a strange feeling. It did not feel wrong, but at the same time it did not feel quite right. Perhaps it took some time to get used to.

'_You _want _to get used to this_?' a part of his mind accused him. _'Respecting another man's self is one thing, but this affection for all of these people is unwarranted and dangerous._'

'_It's a new adventure, a new sea to set sail upon_,' another part of his mind argued. '_It should be fun_.'

'_Why not just continue to take it slowly_,' yet another part of his mind argued. '_The people of the Fellowship weren't bad; even Gandalf didn't bother you too much. And Aragorn did not condemn you for your past. Just because you're friends with them doesn't mean you have to be as such with others_.'

'_And Gibbs was a good friend who always supported you, and Anamaria is becoming like him_,' the second voice added. '_Are a few more like him bad_?'

'_If you continue to be this open you'll only be betrayed_,' the first voice argued against the other two.

The debate was suddenly interrupted by the approach of a few horses. The captain blinked and focused on the figures, soon recognizing one of them as Éomer. The younger man, however, did not seem to see him; his eyes were focused on the great white horse that looked so similar to his uncle's, and the bodies beside it. When he came close enough to recognize his uncle and sister, a strangled cry came from his lips. Jumping off Firefoot without even bothering to halt the horse, he managed to retain his balance and, without a pause, sprinted to them. There he fell and cried once more, taking Éowyn into his arms and holding her tightly while his eyes lay on the king; his uncle's body was broken but his expression was peaceful.

As the young man mourned, Gamling saw Jack and spurred his horse towards him. "What happened?" he demanded. "Why are they here?"

To his surprise, his answer contained not a hint of sarcasm. "I imagine they snuck in with your army. They killed that Ringwraith- Merry stabbed him from behind, and then she stabbed him in the face. They both fell, but Éowyn was able to crawl to her uncle. Last I saw, she was talking to him before he died."

"She was yet alive?" Gamling asked, a hope lit in his eyes.

"I didn't see either of them take a blow that would kill them," Jack clarified. "I'm not sure why they passed out. Here," he said suddenly, holding out his pistol. "Hold that under her nose. You should see her breath, if she lives."

Gamling nodded, took the pistol, and quickly hurried over to Éomer, speaking to him in a rushed, quiet tone. The young man became unnaturally still as the elder spoke, and Jack saw his gun put to her face. After a moment of tense silence, the new king's body became erect and he suddenly stood, Éowyn in his arms. He gave Gamling a hurried set of directions before taking his sister to his horse. Firefoot remained still as he lifted her upon him and then quickly sat down behind her. His steed needed little instruction to take off alone towards the city.

The marshal instructed one of the others to do something that Jack did not catch, and soon he too was off. The other two dismounted and stood beside Théoden's body while Gamling strode over to the captain.

"You were right; she lives yet," he said as he handed the gun back to him. "You have our thanks." Jack only shrugged noncommittally as he sheathed the weapon. "Is that not your horse?" Gamling asked, indicating behind him.

The man glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, standing about fifteen feet away was Nithhad. "Yea. Surprised he didn't run off."

"Horses- especially those of Rohan- are very committed to their masters," said the marshal. "Come, the Holbytla needs attention, for it seems whatever fell miasma affects the lady affects him as well, and it continues to permeate the air here." He whistled to Jack's horse and he came over dutifully, staying as far away from where the Witch-king died as he could. "The men will guard over the king, but it would be his will to see his squire seen to, for he was fond of him. I shall lead you to the Houses of Healing."

"Sounds good," said Jack. He lifted Merry onto Nithhad and mounted behind him, one hand around the hobbit and the other on the reins. Gamling swiftly followed suit and, with a short command to the remaining men there, spurred the horse into a quick trot, Jack close behind.

It was not long into their ride towards the City that Jack spotted what looked to be a child coming towards them. As they came nearer, he saw it was not a child, but a very familiar hobbit. "There's Pippin!" he said to Gamling, not particularly caring if the marshal knew him or not.

"The other Holbytla," he muttered, and as they came together both stopped their horses. Pippin, seeing Jack and Merry, became wide-eyed.

"Merry!" He walked up to the horse and took his cousin's hand, the worry obvious on his face when the other did not respond. "Is he...?" he began, glancing at Jack and afraid to continue his thought.

"He's alive," Jack quickly confirmed. "But there's something strange with him. We're taking him to that healing place."

"The Houses of Healing," Gamling affirmed.

"That is where I just came from," said Pippin, "and many others are going there- I've already passed them. I came out here to search for Merry."

"He was not forgotten," said the captain with a strange half-smile. "I imagine you want to stay with your cousin now that you've found him. I am not sure if this old nag could handle your weight as well; you can try climbing up and see what happens, or just walk beside us."

"Neither will do," said Gamling. "Time is of essence. You may ride with me, Master Holbytla."

Without further discussion, the Rohir bent down and lifted Pippin in front of him, and once he was settled the four continued towards the City once more.

It was not far past the gate when Merry regained consciousness. Jack slowed down and glanced at his friend warily, holding him steady as he gained his bearings. "Where- what is-" he muttered disjointedly, unable to absorb all of his surroundings at once.

"You're with friends," Jack answered, "so I would be very appreciative if you'd stop wiggling about."

He stilled and rather concentrated on his surroundings. "Is- Jack?" he asked. "Where-" he started as he glanced about at the white stone walls, but then his eyes fell to his left, where Pippin rode to the side, looking upon his cousin with ill-hidden concern. "Pippin."

"Hullo, Merry," he said with a small smile. "Glad to see you awake."

"Where are we going? Are you going to bury me?" he asked, garnering a concerned look from Gamling, a surprised look from Jack, and a right-out panicked glance from Pippin before he recovered himself.

"No indeed!" said the other hobbit in reply. "We're going to the Houses of Healing."

"We don't have a habit of burying living people," said Jack, "so if you could stay alive for a bit longer we can avoid that unpleasant experience."

Something that could have been a light snort came from Merry's lips, but he soon winced. "There is no life- no life in my right arm. Not ever since-" He broke off and shuddered.

"Well, that's why we're going to the Houses of Healing," stated Pippin as matter-of-factly as he could manage. "All the others are meeting there, too, so you'll be able to see everyone else."

"Are the others alright?"

"More or less," Pippin replied vaguely, but he looked ahead as he spoke. Gamling's expression was grim and Jack cleared his throat loudly.

"Just rest, we'll be there soon," the captain muttered. To his surprise and concern the hobbit did not protest but relaxed as best as he could, closing his eyes and leaning against Jack's chest. This complacency was not normal for any hobbit, Merry not the least.

To all of their relief, within a few minutes the horses had ascended through the rest of the city and passed the sixth gate. To the left a great building surrounded by trees, flowers, and other greens- a rare sight in Minas Tirith- came into view.

They had reached the Houses of Healing.

* * *

_Ernil i Pheriannath_- Prince of the Halflings. What the people of Minas Tirith call Pippin in the book.


	38. The Houses of Healing

I don't think I can quite do justice for one of my favorite chapters in LOTR, but it was a lot of fun to write. And, well, because I can, Faramir has dark hair like in the books, so a bit different from his film appearance. Heck, I don't think I ever described Boromir's hair color in this story, so you can imagine him with dark hair too if you want. Only Legolas has to look like his film self :-P

As before, much dialogue and a couple descriptions are from the books- especially Ioreth's lines and her interaction with others, because they are truly priceless (though the punctuation is slightly varied since Tolkien's punctuation is, well, a little older and not how I use it). The more flowery and overall epic it sounds, the more likely it came straight from Tolkien :)

* * *

Chapter 38: The Houses of Healing

Jack carried Merry into the building, Pippin and Gamling close behind him. He idly observed the open greeting area that was functioning in some sort of organized chaos. Various men and women carrying clean cloths, vials, and medical instruments hurried to and fro from hallway to hallway, room to room, tending the wounded as they came. It already seemed that the Houses were crowded, for there were many soldiers with less severe wounds sitting about the large greeting hall waiting for service, and a couple being tended right where they sat.

Pippin led the others past the greeting hall and down one of the hallways deeper into the building, passing curious healers and patients without stopping. Soon enough they came to a quieter back corner of the Houses and ran into Gandalf. Jack's eyebrows inadvertently rose; he had not seen the wizard so weary and filled with grief ever since- well, now that he thought about it, this was the first time he had ever seen him like this. It was a bit eerie.

"So it is as I feared," Gandalf muttered. "Come, bring him in here," he indicated to Jack. Jack and Pippin followed as he turned left into a small, empty room that bore a bed, a nightstand, and a couple of chairs. Gently the man laid the hobbit down upon the mattress, ignoring the wizard's stare upon his back. He straightened and glanced at the old man nonchalantly.

"Will and Elizabeth are in the room across the hall. Anamaria is in the room to their right," said Gandalf softly. Jack nodded, completely unsurprised to hear both Elizabeth and Anamaria were here as well. When he saw Éowyn and Merry, he knew that those two tagged along, even if the latter was going directly against his orders. Without a word he left the others in the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He glanced about the hallway, taking in his surroundings before heading into Anamaria's room. To his left, just beside Merry's room, he could see Gamling's back and another who looked to be Éomer, though he could make little of the younger man's face. Éowyn would have to be in there, then. Next to that room at the end of the corridor stood a tall, dark-haired man clad in gear similar to Pippin's outfit. He could not even imagine whom he was guarding. No one else was visible in the corridor and so he opened the door to the right of the one straight across from him, the one that led to the room where Anamaria was. Face impassive, he opened the door without knocking.

The dark-skinned woman lay on a long, thin bed, black hair askew about her face. A blanket covered her body, but he could see that her left leg was propped up under it. Any confrontation between he and his subordinate was to come later, for it was obvious to him that she was dead asleep. Glancing at the cup on the table, he idly wondered if she fell asleep naturally. He quickly decided it did not matter; he would not have been surprised if she had pushed herself too far. She did that from time to time.

Quietly closing the door, he went to the room right next to hers and, once again, entered without knocking. To his surprise, while Will was in there and very much awake, Elizabeth was nowhere in sight.

"It's considered polite to knock," said Will in greeting.

"I'll think about that next time," replied the other with a casual wave of the hand. He glanced at the stitches on the side of younger man's head with a raised brow. "You get your own bedroom for _that_?"

"I was in the right company," he shrugged. "I'll likely be out of here in a couple of hours, by tomorrow morning at the latest." He eyed his friend. "You seem to have come through the battle well enough."

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he provided as an explanation. Will snorted softly but did not argue with him. "Ah, now Gandalf told me that Elizabeth had somehow ended up here and was in this room; where has she run off to? I would imagine her fussing over that scratch for the next few hours, at the least."

The younger man was unable completely to conceal a wince. "She- she is speaking with Anamaria's new friend next door," he muttered.

"Ah," replied the captain. "You mean she is still angry at you for what you did to her. I see. It _was_ rather deceptive of you, you know." Will only glared at him. "Alright then, I see how it is; I imagine even your wife is more jolly company than you are right now." He eyed the blacksmith thoughtfully before leaving the room and heading next door to where he expected to find the woman and whoever Anamaria's new friend was. He thought about knocking for about a split second before deciding against it.

"I should have known it was you," Elizabeth said dryly as he entered. A dark-haired young man, the only other person in the room, glanced at him with an unreadable expression. "This isn't _my_ room, you know, that you are so rudely barging into."

"Oh yes, so Will told me," Jack nodded. As her eyes darkened, his lit up in triumph. "Ah! So you _are_ still angry with him!"

"That is none of your concern," she retorted coolly. "Or did you have a part to play in that deception as well?"

"Ah, no, love, that would be Aragorn. He provided the herbs, you know."

"So I assumed," she said. "And while I am sure you find this whole situation amusing, you shan't hear anymore about it from me." The young woman crossed her arms and stared evenly at him.

He chuckled quietly. "You make it too easy." Ignoring her look, he turned his glance from her to the young man. It was obvious the room belonged to him; alongside Elizabeth being virtually unscathed, his arm was in a sling and underneath his thin shirt he could make out padding about his shoulder. "My apologies, I haven't introduced myself. I am Captain Jack Sparrow- and I heard you've already met with my first mate?"

"First mate? When was Anamaria- oh," said Elizabeth in realization softly. Gibbs was in the position before.

"I am Amrothos, son of Imrahil," said the man in greeting, a look of slight bemusement coming upon his face as he inspected the man. "I have met Anamaria; she is your... first mate?"

"Aye," replied Jack. "Part of me crew. You know, ship."

"I am well aware of the terminology," said Amrothos, his statement caught in between bewilderment and annoyance.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "It would be wonderful if you would not annoy people the moment you meet them."

"Quite unintentional," he waved her off. "You are thinking about your husband."

She frowned and then turned to Amrothos. "It was a pleasure speaking with you, Lord Amrothos. I am going to seek the company of Lords Elladan and Elrohir, or perhaps Gandalf- someone this man isn't completely unruly about."

"I am wounded," said Jack dramatically, but he suddenly blinked, his brow furrowing. "Wait. The twins are here too? Where are they?"

"After they saw to Will and Anamaria, they went to help the healers with their other patients," said Elizabeth. "_They_ are helpful, unlike you." A slight smile came across her lips as she glanced at the man; he was completely unbearable and yet charming at the same time.

"You're one to talk," he retorted with a half smile. "Besides, I-" he broke off, his amusement fading away. "I brought in Merry," he ended quietly.

Any hint of amusement or annoyance immediately gave way to worry. "Merry? Merry is wounded? Where is he?"

"Across the hall," he said quietly. "And Éowyn is next door."

Without another word she left the room, Jack slightly wincing at the loud sound she caused as she slammed the door behind her. He glanced at Amrothos apologetically. "You'll have to forgive her; she can lose her head at times, her. Temper rather often too, now that I think about it."

The young man nodded slowly. "Are this Merry and Éowyn two more of your friends?"

"Yes, and no," started Jack slowly. "As is, Elizabeth might not be a friend depending on your definition of the term, nor necessarily the others- but we have known one another for at least- well, at least a week. It's all a bit complicated, really."

Amrothos blinked. "At least a week?"

"That's about the time Elizabeth and Éowyn first met each other, so yes," he nodded thoughtfully. Sitting down across from the bed, he leaned back and glanced at his fingers contemplatively. "Granted, I don't believe Pippin had a chance to meet her at all, so they would not be friends so much as having mutual acquaintances that they happened to be at least acquainted with, with some friendship and kinship thrown in here and there- Merry and Pippin are cousins, after all. Those two tend to make friends with anyone they meet at first sight, of course, unlike Éowyn, who only really took a liking to Anamaria, though that may have changed since we last saw her. She was on good terms with Aragorn as well, but that seemed to melt away to acquaintanceship rather quickly. And Aragorn of course has more acquaintances than friends, seeing as he seems to know everyone we've ever come across in his company- though he's related to his friend Halbarad, who we met about a week ago, and they're all friends with the sons of Elrond, who are on mutual terms with them and certainly are acquaintances to the rest of us since we met a few months back. And they, of course, are friendly with Legolas, who is even friendlier with Gimli, and Gimli's father is friends with a relative of the hobbits. And Gandalf knows more people than perhaps Aragorn, though the old man is less likely to make friends than he." Jack frowned. "It's all rather complicated, isn't it?"

Amrothos blinked at him dazedly for a second before he realized that Jack had stopped babbling. "Yes. Very... complicated."

The older man nodded in satisfaction. "Exactly, which makes the whole situation of attempting to figure out who is a friend with who a rather pointless endeavor, savvy?" The young man slowly nodded. "Right! As is, Anamaria- who I've known longer than everyone else I just mentioned- is likely still sleeping, but I'm interested in seeing how the others are doing now. Merry and Éowyn killed a Black Rider and it left them looking rather, well, _dead_, though they still seem to be breathing."

"Wait," said Amrothos as Jack stood to leave. "What do you mean by a 'black rider'?"

"You know, those black... things. Can't really call them men, but they certainly look like them. They seem to have switched out their horses for some sort of large, bald, ugly bird-like creature."

"A Nazgûl!" cried Amrothos. "Your friends killed one of the Nine?"

"Right," Jack chirped. "More than you'd expect from some young lass and a short hobbit, eh?" As the young man absorbed his statement, the captain left the room without another word.

O0O0O0O

Éomer and Gamling stood in the open doorway of Éowyn's room. He spared his sister one last glance before turning to the older man. "I do not understand why she lays so still and cold as if dead, and yet continues to breathe. What foul poison has taken hold over her?"

"I do not understand myself, my lord," said Gamling, "but there lay a fell miasma in the air where she fell, and the Holbytla suffers from it as well. I saw both of their blades were broken by the evil creature which they slew, and such a power can only bode ill." The young king looked up at the mention of his uncle's esquire, concern etched in his features. "Lord Aragorn's companion brought Master Meriadoc here," the marshal reassured him. "He is next door, and Gandalf Greyhame is with him."

"That is well that the wizard is here," said Éomer. "If anyone can help them, it would be him." He sighed, the weariness of battle and today's events overcoming his heart and body, and he looked upon Éowyn once more before saying, "I should see to the king's body and make sure he is borne back to the City and laid with honor."

"Our men stood guard over him and others were bringing back a bier to carry him to the Citadel," he said. "They should be arriving to the Gate soon, if not come already." He paused and lowered his already hushed voice even further. "The other marshals and I can see to it, Éomer. Éowyn needs you now, and I see in your eyes that you do not wish to leave her side. They will understand."

He nodded. "Thank you, Gamling." The marshal bowed and with a short farewell departed to see to the dead king.

Just as Gamling left, Gandalf and Pippin exited Merry's room, causing Éomer to pause before going back to his sister's side. Quickly spotting the man they both came, glancing upon the young woman behind him before turning to him.

"How is she?" Gandalf asked.

"Cold," said he, "and still as if in death, but she yet draws breath. I do not understand what sickness lies upon her; other than her broken arm, which has already been seen to, she seems to have no other visible wound, and yet she will not wake."

"And so it is the same with Merry," said the wizard. He entered the room and looked closely upon her, a deep frown upon his face. "Yes, she certainly is the same, and worse." He closed his eyes briefly before turning to the Rohir. "It is called the Black Breath, the most deadly of the Nine's weapons. You know of her triumph upon the battlefield?" At his silent nod he continued, "Both the Lady Éowyn and Meriadoc faced the Witch-king, the Lord of the Nine, and he is deadlier than the other eight. Your sister faced him long and caught a full onslaught of his wrath and with it the Black Breath."

"Can you cure her?" Éomer all but demanded.

"I? No, I have no such power," he said. As a look of despair came upon the young man's face, Gandalf's eyes softened and he gently squeezed the other's shoulder. "I am sorry. But do not give up hope; she has not left this world yet."

They heard the sound of a door opening in the hallway, and Gandalf made his way to the door while the young king remained behind with his sister. He closed the door behind him and went to the end of the hallway, where Pippin stood with the tall Gondorian guard and a couple of healers, both of which had just exited the room the man guarded. Beyond them lay an open door to the room; the wizard could see a still figure lying upon a bed.

"How does he fare, Ioreth?" Gandalf asked the elder of the two healers.

Ioreth, the eldest of all the women who worked in the Houses, shook her head sadly. "Not well, Mithrandir. His fever still rages on, despite all of our treatments." At her statement, Pippin and the man glanced at one another, grief upon both of their faces.

Behind them another door opened, and Jack was soon beside the wizard, glancing beyond the healers to catch a glimpse of who lay within. He could not see the face of the man on the bed; all he could see was a head of dark hair. "Who's that?"

"He is Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor," said the guard, watching the strange-looking man with thinly veiled suspicion. "Who are you?"

"He's a friend, Beregond," Pippin quickly reassured the guard. He then turned to Jack. "Faramir is Boromir's brother."

A sudden flash of memory came to his mind. "The name sounded familiar." He glanced down at the hobbit. "Does he know about Boromir?" The other only nodded solemnly.

Ioreth was paying little attention to the newcomer and the conversation between him and the others. Indeed, she was standing at the doorway, watching the younger man with ill-concealed despair upon her features. When in his fever-plagued sleep he shifted and turned to face the door, his cheeks flushed and hair matted with sweat across his face, the old woman wept. "Alas! if he should die. Would that there were kings in Gondor, as there were once upon a time, they say! For it is said in old lore: _The hands of the king are the hands of a healer_. And so the rightful king could ever be known."

By the time Jack had made the connections between king, Aragorn, and what the man had done on their journey to Rivendell (and more besides), Gandalf was already responding to her. "Men may long remember your words, Ioreth!" And with that, the wizard spun around and quickly walked out of sight.

The others looked at the back of the wizard with various baffled expressions; only Jack seemed to know what was happening.

"Where is he going?" Pippin asked.

Jack smirked. "Remember who did the healing back before we came to Rivendell? And all that hubbub surrounding him at the Council?"

Realization came to the hobbit's face. "Oh! Strider!"

The man leaned upon the wall and folded his arms. "Yep. Good old Strider."

O0O0O0O

It was turning dark as the final post-battle preparations neared completion. The wounded were all removed from the field to the Houses of Healing, and when those became full, buildings surrounding the Houses were used instead. Even then, not all the wounded were kept on the sixth level, for several fathers of soldiers stayed in the City when most other townsfolk departed to the country in the south. Many fathers took their sons back to their homes, for their sons seemed unwounded in body but nonetheless swallowed in some cold, deep sleep. These fathers- indeed, all people of Minas Tirith- knew the symptoms of the Black Breath well, and they knew that there was no cure for it beyond the willpower of the person poisoned with it. Therefore, the families of those inflicted with the terrible illness bothered not the healers, but rather prayed for their fathers, brothers, and sons to live through the night.

Housing was found for the soldiers from Rohan and for those who came with the Corsair ships, for with the City all-but-empty there was plenty of room in both the lower and upper levels, and the citizens of Minas Tirith that remained opened their doors for anyone in need of shelter. It was only due to the kindness and generosity of the townspeople towards the soldiers that any sort of rest was found that night. And, of course, neither the Rohirrim nor the Dúnedain would enter the City until an area had been cleared for their horses upon the field, and men of Rohan, Gondor, and Arnor kept vigil over the beasts in a great makeshift pen throughout the night. In the end, it would take weeks to separate the bodies of friends and foes and to clear the battlefield of the dead, of the black and red blood that stained the once-green grass. The Captains of the West knew this well, and they were merely thankful that the first of the post-battle preparations had come as smoothly as they had.

It was only after all this that the captains were able to speak about matters beyond settling all the soldiers. Halbarad had just left with the rest of the living Dúnedain with a group of Prince Imrahil's Swan Knights, for they were to be housed together in barracks upon the sixth circle. Aragorn now walked alone with Imrahil to the entrance of the White City, the only trinket that made him stand out from others being the green stone from Galadriel that lay upon his breast.

Now that events had been settled, both fully contemplated the meaning behind Pippin's message, given to them several hours ago soon after the battle had ended. "I wished to not enter until I received welcome from the Lord of the City," said Aragorn quietly, almost as if to himself. "And yet the Steward perished this morning and his son lies in the Houses of Healing."

"When I welcomed your men to stay with my knights, that invitation did not exclude you," said Imrahil with a slight smile, "though you would be housed in the Citadel, as is the right given to all captains and lords."

"Nonetheless, I wish not to cause strife, nor enter the City unwelcome," argued Aragorn.

"With my nephew incapacitated as he is, the rule of Minas Tirith falls to me," rebutted the prince, "and as the current Lord of the City, I welcome you, Aragorn son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur, to Minas Tirith."

"So be it, then," said Aragorn, "but for now I am but the Captain of the Dúnedain of Arnor; we shall not discuss my claim until our Enemy has fallen."

Imrahil agreed, and together they stepped past the broken gate and into the large courtyard beyond. It was there, under the curious eyes of the night watchmen, that Gandalf came upon them.

"Gandalf!" said Aragorn. "I had not looked for you here."

"Neither did I you," said the wizard. "I am glad that Lord Imrahil has spared me the task of convincing you to enter the City. Come now! Your hands are needed; Lord Faramir is near death, and both Lady Éowyn and Master Meriadoc will soon follow. Only the skills in your blood can save them now." Neither man said nothing, but rather quickly followed the wizard up to the Houses of Healing.

Within a quarter of an hour they were at the entrance of the Houses, and without preamble, they entered. Gandalf led Aragorn and Imrahil through the building and to the corridor where Faramir, Éowyn, and Merry were. In the hallway were still Beregond the guard, Pippin, and Jack, but the two healers were gone and with them now were Will and Elizabeth, the couple notably ignoring one another.

"Strider!" Pippin said gladly. "You were right, Jack."

"Course I was," said Jack. "Your majesty," he nodded towards Aragorn in his familiar half-serious, half-mocking tone. The Dúnadan shot him a short but meaningful look before following Gandalf and Imrahil into Faramir's room. Before the others could follow, the door was shut in their faces.

"Who was the other man with them?" asked Will.

"Lord Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth," Pippin answered. "He is Lord Faramir's uncle."

"And Amrothos' father," said Elizabeth, recalling the young man's introduction. "And I could have told him where his son is if you hadn't angered Aragorn, Jack." She rolled her eyes. "Will you ever stop annoying him?"

"He wasn't annoyed," the man rebutted. "It was more a look of wry acknowledgement."

"It was annoyance," Will said.

"The only reason you're agreeing with her is-" Jack was interrupted by the door to Faramir's room opening. Beregond quickly shifted out of the way to allow the three to pass. They swiftly then went into Éowyn's room, and just like the last time, the door was shut before the others in the hall could even step towards it.

As Beregond took his spot back in front of Faramir's door, Pippin noticed the look that the man was trying his best to hide. "Oh, don't worry, they're always like this," he said in perky reassurance. "Strider and Gandalf found it more amusing than bothersome, I think."

Beregond nodded slowly. "Strider was the tall man with Mithrandir?"

"Right."

"That isn't his real name, of course," Elizabeth clarified. "He's Aragorn."

"_Lord_ Aragorn," stressed Jack with a queer smirk. "And that isn't the only name he has, is it?" They were interrupted by the door to Éowyn's room opening and the three of them and Éomer exiting. This time they did not even try to follow all of them into Merry's room.

"I remember Arwen calling him Estel," said the woman.

"Glorfindel called him 'Dúnadan'," Will added. "And Éomer gave him some laughably strange nickname, though I cannot remember it now-"

"Wingfoot," Jack interrupted. "What a god awful name. Worse than Strider."

"Don't let Éomer hear you saying that," said Elizabeth. "As it is, I don't think that is all of them. Lord, but that man has too many names."

Just as she finished her sentence, the man in question exited Merry's room, Gandalf, Imrahil, and Éomer close behind. Aragorn leaned against the wall between Merry's and Éowyn's doors and sighed. It was at that moment that Elizabeth forgot that she was supposed to be angry with him concerning his actions at Dunharrow and quickly closed the short distance between them. Jack, Will, and Pippin were close behind, and though Beregond remained at his station, he watched them curiously.

"Aragorn," she said softly. "You look exhausted and worse now than you were five minutes ago when you came striding down this hall."

He glanced down upon her with a small smile. "Thank you for your concern, but I will be well." He assessed Jack and Will quickly and, seeing them well enough, turned to Gandalf. "They are very ill. Here I must put forth all such power and skill as is given to me."

Éomer looked his friend over and, seeing his sorrow and weariness, asked, "Perhaps you should at least eat and rest a little?"

Aragorn shook his head. "Nay, for these three, and most soon for Faramir, time is running out. Speed is needed." He stood up straight and, seeing Beregond, asked him to fetch healers.

"Fetch Ioreth with them, if you can," Gandalf added. The guard nodded, bowed, and hurried to do as ordered. Within a minute he came back with the old wise-woman and a couple of other healers, and Ioreth shortly curtseyed before the lords, looking upon Aragorn with open curiosity.

"You have store in this House herbs of healing?" he asked her.

"Yes, lord," she answered, "but not enough, I reckon, for all that will need them. But I am sure I do not know where we shall find more, for all things are amiss in these dreadful days, what with fires and burnings, and the lads that run errands so few, and all the roads blocked. Why, it is days out of count since ever a carrier came in from Lossarnach to the market! But we do our best in this House with what we have, as I am sure your lordship will know."

Elizabeth realized that her mouth was slightly hanging open after the end of her ramble. She shut it closed quickly, but her bafflement remained. She was not sure what the old woman had just babbled, but it sounded like one of Jack's ramblings, only said in one breath- a disturbing thought, now that she thought about it.

"I will judge that when I see," said Aragorn. "One thing also is short: time for speech." Jack cleared his throat loudly and Will turned his head away, a hand over his mouth. "Have you _athelas_?"

"I do not know, I am sure, lord," answered Ioreth, seemingly not at all put off by his rather short response. "At least, not by that name. I will go and ask of the herb-master; he knows all the old names."

"It is also called 'kingsfoil'," Aragorn said.

"Oh, that! Well, if your lordship had named it at first I could have told you. No, we have none of it, I am sure. Why I have never heard that it had any great virtue, and indeed..."

Will began to daydream as the old woman began another ramble. His glance moved from Ioreth to the back of his wife's head. He could not see her expression at the moment, but he imagined it was somewhere between amusement and complete bewilderment. He held back a sigh; still, many hours after their reunion, she was angry with him. It was he who was usually slow to anger and slow to forgive, while she was quick in temper and quick in forgiveness. This rift between them was slowly driving him insane and he wished she would simply start speaking to him again.

He came back to the present as he realized Aragorn was speaking. "And now, dame, if you love the Lord Faramir, run as quick as your tongue and get me kingsfoil, if there is a leaf in the City." She nodded and left quickly. The man bade the remaining healers follow him and they, as well as the others, went with him into Faramir's room. This time the others would not be dissuaded and quickly entered as well, making themselves as small as possible in one of the corners so they would not be kicked out. Pippin looked unnaturally tense and grim as he looked upon Faramir, and Elizabeth put a hand on his shoulder in comfort. He smiled briefly up at her before turning his attention to the scene before them.

The healers put a pot of water on the fire as Aragorn stood beside Faramir's bed; Gandalf and Imrahil sat stiffly nearby, and Éomer stood behind them, looking with wonder upon the older man as he took the Steward's hand in his and laid the other hand upon his brow. Unlike before, Faramir was completely still.

"He is nearly spent," said Aragorn, "but not from the wound on his shoulder, for that is nearly healed. Yet it was not a Nazgûl that struck him, for he would have died days ago if that were the case."

"It was a Southron arrow that struck him; I was the one that drew it forth," said Imrahil. "It looked just as all other Southron darts do, so it is strange that it has affected him as such. How do you read the matter?"

"Weariness, grief for his father's mood, the wound, and overall the Black Breath," said Aragorn. "He is a man of staunch will, but nonetheless the darkness crept slowly upon him and attacked when he was most vulnerable."

At that moment, the door opened and a man entered. "I am the herb-master of these houses, lord," he said in greeting. "Your lordship asked for _kingsfoil_, as the rustics name it, or _athelas_ in the noble tongue, or to those who know somewhat of the Valinorean-"

"I do so," Aragorn interrupted, "and I care not whether you say now _asëa aranion_ or _kingsfoil_ so long as you have some!"

"It is always amusing whenever Aragorn loses his temper," Jack muttered to Will. Will nodded in agreement, and he could not help but stare in disbelief as the herb-master, who was surely related to Ioreth, proceeded to babble on about their lack of the herb, including a recital of an old rhyme that mentioned something about _athelas_ and the king's hands, before Gandalf finally interrupted him.

"Then in the name of the king, go and find some old man of less lore and more wisdom who keeps some in his house!"

The herb-master bowed and left the room, Jack muttering as he left, "Gandalf, too." Any other comments he may have had were stifled as Aragorn turned away from the door and back to Faramir. He knelt on the floor beside him and laid his hand once more upon the younger man's brow. The others in the room barely dared to breathe as they watched him. Aragorn began to call Faramir's name, and with every call his words became fainter as if he himself were removed from them. As time passed his face became pale; beads of sweat appeared upon his brow as if he were exerting great force.

Not even ten minutes had passed when a loud knock burst throughout the room, making all but Aragorn and Faramir startle in surprise. The door opened and a young boy ran to Aragorn's side; in his hands he held several leaves wrapped in cloth.

"That is Beregond's son, Bergil," Pippin whispered to his friends.

The Ranger opened his eyes and turned to Bergil as the boy began to speak. "It is kingsfoil, sir, but not fresh, I fear. It must have been culled two weeks ago at the least. I hope it will serve, sir?" His eyes turned to Faramir and, seeing the man so pale and still, shuddered as he began to cry.

Aragorn, however, smiled. "It will serve. The worst is now over. Stay and be comforted!" He took two of the leaves in the cloth, breathed upon them, and crushed them. A strange, but invigorating freshness came from the leaves and began to permeate the air about him. When he cast the leaves into the boiled water left by the healer at his side, it seemed immediately to fill the air of the room with the scent of the green world. It was like a memory of dewy mornings of unshadowed sun in some land of which the fair world in Spring is itself but a fleeting memory, and it lightened everyone's hearts.

"Heavens," muttered Will. "I don't remember it being like this before."

As Ioreth muttered something to the healer beside her, Aragorn stood and held the bowl before Faramir's face. As the scent reached him, his breath deepened and, within a moment, he stirred and opened his eyes. As he gazed upon Aragorn, a light was kindled in his eyes, and he looked upon him as if he knew him. Quietly he spoke, "My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?"

A soft smile touched Aragorn's lips. "Walk no more in the shadows, but awake! You are weary; rest a while, and eat, and be ready when I return."

"I will, lord," said Faramir, "for who would lie idle when the king has returned?"

"Well! That was useful," Jack murmured to Will. "He spared us what I thought was going to be a rather awkward conversation; you know, 'Who are you and why do you have a bowl over my face?' I already like him." Will only nodded, gazing thoughtfully at Boromir's brother. So alike him, and yet he seemed very different, too.

"Farewell, for a while," said Aragorn. "I must go to others who need me." Aragorn left the room, Gandalf, Éomer, and Pippin following, but Imrahil rather moved his chair closer to the bed, grasping his nephew's hand and smiling gladly. Bergil gazed wide-eyed after Aragorn's form and then trotted over to the healers. Ioreth, of course, was already gossiping softly but quickly to the others near the door.

"King! Did you hear that? What did I say? The hands of a healer, I said," the others heard as they approached her themselves.

"Is that who he really is? Is he the King Returned?" asked Bergil.

"Aye," Jack contributed, slipping himself into the conversation. "That's him."

The boy's eyes lit up with delight. "I shall tell my father!" He went for the door.

"Oh, but you should tell not just him," Jack said before he opened it. "You should tell everyone you come across- and you too," he nodded to Ioreth. She nodded, her eyes bright with joy and a great smile upon her face, and as one, the boy and the healers left the room.

Imrahil, hearing Jack's words, glanced upon the man wordlessly. The captain, feeling the gaze upon his back, turned, acknowledged the prince with one of his quick, quirky grins, tipped his hat towards Faramir in greeting, and left the room, Will close behind him. Elizabeth made to follow but suddenly remembered something. Turning from the door she approached the two men still in the room.

"My lords," she bowed her head quickly, and then turned to Imrahil. "You are Amrothos' father, are you not?"

"I am," he said. "And you are, my lady?"

"Oh! I am Elizabeth, my lord; I rode with Éowyn of Rohan to Minas Tirith, and before that I was Aragorn's and Gandalf's companion, as were the others with me." She smiled shortly. "I just thought you ought to know that your son is next door, to the left as you exit this room. He was doing well when I spoke with him, though he will not be using that arm for a while."

"I was to look for him soon," said Imrahil. "Thank you for the information, Lady Elizabeth."

"You are the king's companion?" Faramir asked as he studied her.

"Yes, my lord," she answered, "for many months, even before I-" She faltered, but he gave her an encouraging look and she ended softly, "before I met your brother."

A torrent of mixed emotions passed through Faramir's eyes. "You knew my brother?"

She nodded shortly. "He was a good, kind man." She remembered the battle at Amon Hen and vividly recalled him falling before her eyes before she lost consciousness and woke up among the orcs. Bowing her head as the memories rushed through her, she excused herself and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Outside, the tone was merrier than the memories that now assaulted her. Bergil was eagerly telling his father about the miracles that had happened inside of the room, and both Jack and Will were nearby, amusement written on their features as they listened to his dramatic recreation of the tale. Ioreth and the other healers were already gone, likely telling anyone who would listen about Faramir's extraordinary recovery and about the stranger who healed him and who the Steward had called king. Elizabeth pushed her thoughts away for the moment and concentrated on what was happening before her.

"Where are the others?" she asked Jack.

"Likely Éowyn's room," he said. As Bergil finished his story and ran off to tell others, Elizabeth quietly opened the door to the Rohir's room and watched from the doorway, Jack and Will looking in from beyond her shoulders. Pippin was the only one who spared them a glance; the others had only their eyes for Aragorn, who now bathed Éowyn's arm in athelas-infused water. A fresh scent filled this room as it did in the other, though it felt and smelled slightly different than before.

"Awake, Éowyn, Lady of Rohan!" said Aragorn. He took her hand, laid it in Éomer's, and stepped away. "Call to her," he said, and then passed silently out of the room. The three made way for the Ranger as he came, followed soon by Pippin and Gandalf. The wizard closed the door behind them as Éomer called and Éowyn began to stir.

Aragorn then entered Merry's room and knelt beside the hobbit; the others quietly entered after. Pippin gasped as he looked upon him, for he seemed much worse than before, and he ran to the other side of the bed. The others stood by, open concern upon Will's face as he looked upon the hobbit for the first time since they departed from one another at Helm's Deep. He truly looked terrible, his pale, grey face reminding him of one who was dead. As before, the Dúnadan held his hand and had the other upon his brow, and called softly to him. The minutes passed by slowly, torturously slow for Pippin. He wished to grasp his cousin's other hand but was afraid to disturb Aragorn, and so he kept still.

The man opened his eyes and then breathed upon and crushed two leaves of _athelas_ into the bowl of water beside the hobbit. As the fragrance stole through the room, Aragorn called his name one last time, and then Merry awakened.

He blinked, took in his surroundings with one quick look, and said, "I'm hungry. What time is it?"

Any remaining tension in the room broke with a snap. The three foreigners from the Caribbean burst out laughing, and Pippin smiled as he answered, "It's past suppertime now, though I daresay I could bring you something."

Bidding farewell, Aragorn and the others left the cousins behind as they talked and caught up with one another. Outside of the room were Elladan and Elrohir, waiting expectantly.

"We heard rumor of your arrival," said Elladan. "The Houses are filled with whispers about the healing hands of the king."

"And the rumor has gone beyond these walls and into the City," added Elrohir. "Already there is a great crowd waiting for you, most of who ask for your aid."

"The word spread fast," said Aragorn, glancing sideways at Jack. Jack looked innocently back at him. "Very well, then. First I must speak with the Warden of the Houses, and then sup, for I have not eaten since dawn."

"That would be wise," said Elladan, a slight smile upon his lips. "We have already eaten, and once you are ready, we will labor with you, for there are many who are wounded or plagued with the Black Breath."

The man nodded, and then glanced at the others. "What of you three?"

"Food sounds good," said Jack. "Then some sleep."

"They gave me a room here, but I really have no need for it," Will said. He nodded to Elladan. "After you treated my head I felt fine."

"How is Anamaria?" Aragorn asked Elrond's sons. "I have not had a chance to see to her."

"She is in there," said Elrohir, nodding to the doorway near them. Aragorn quietly opened the door and, seeing her peacefully sleeping, softly closed it again. "Her wounds, while painful, will not kill her. She may develop a limp from her body's ordeals, but if she mostly remains off the leg, it should heal."

"It has seemed impossible so far to keep her abed," muttered Aragorn. "Perhaps now she will let her body rest."

"Unlikely," Jack said. "Not if I know her." He would have to talk to her and convince her otherwise.

They walked down the hall and came to a fork in the corridor. "I will show you where you may sup and where you can rest," said Gandalf to Jack, Will, and Elizabeth. They nodded, and with brief farewells, the two groups parted ways.

O0O0O0O

The sun had not yet risen when Jack came to the Houses of Healing. It was notably less crowded than the night before, but even in this early hour there were still a few soldiers in the greeting room, most of them dozing on a bench or on the floor. A couple healers moved quietly from hallway to hallway and room to room, even at this hour working diligently for their patients.

He silently went down one of the hallways and, after turning down a couple of corridors, came to Anamaria's room. Quietly he opened the door and slipped inside. To his considerable surprise, the woman was awake.

"Jack," she muttered as he closed the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeing you, of course."

She smiled. "You didn't have to."

"Not so sure I'd agree with that." He pulled the chair in her room to the side of her bed. "How's your leg?"

The woman grimaced. "A bit sore, but not as painful as yesterday. Elladan knocked me out with something once we came here, so I don't remember much."

"You certainly missed out. Aragorn came in here and cured quite a few people. He first went to Boromir's brother, who then called him 'king', and soon after that the word spread so fast that you couldn't stop it even if you tried."

"Boromir's brother? Does he know about-?"

"I'm not sure. As it is, he doesn't seem to be too bad of a chap. Anyways, Éowyn and Merry were wounded too, but Aragorn healed them and now they're fine."

Anamaria slowly nodded. "I'm glad they're alright now, though knowing Éowyn, she can't be too happy about being stuck in a bed. I know I'm not." She frowned down at her leg.

Jack leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Your leg would be all but well now if you had stayed in Rohan as I ordered you to."

"It healed along the way," she countered. "It's not my fault I was shot."

"That still doesn't change the fact that you disobeyed your captain." He stared evenly at her.

"Well, technically you never said it..." she started, but when he looked unmoved, the woman went with a different tactic. "Do you remember what your order was?"

He frowned, unsure as to where she was going with this. "Of course."

"So do I. You said that I was not coming with you, that I was not allowed to come with you- and so I didn't. You never said anything about not going with the Rohirrim, though, and it would have been mightily rude of me to refuse Éowyn's offer."

Jack opened his mouth as if to speak, and then closed it again, frowning. Technically, she was correct. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he was silent for a moment before he said, "You have spent too much time around me."

She smirked. "I know." Sobering, the young woman added, "Besides, I remembered Galadriel's message and I knew that it was meant for that moment; I had to follow it."

The man's expression subtly changed and he looked at her keenly. "What was her message?"

"Something about when everyone was away from one another I needed to listen to my heart or something," she shrugged. "But I remember the gist of it, and I didn't think it would be that smart to ignore her advice, however strangely-worded she made it."

"Indeed so," he replied. "Certainly best to follow her advice."

"What was her message to you? I have forgotten it."

He shrugged half-heartedly. "Oh, nothing too important. As it is, it's passed by for both of us, so it's time to stop looking back." Satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, even if it was not exactly what he had expected it to be, he stood up. "In the meanwhile, I'm going to find some food and you are to stay off that leg."

"I'm not going anywhere," she waved his order off. "And while you're at it, find someone to get something for me, I'm starving."

"Will do, my lady," he answered with a mock bow. She sent an obscene gesture his way and he grinned before leaving the room.

O0O0O0O

It was dawn, and Will was surprised to find himself awake at such an hour considering the exhausting day before. Once Gandalf led them to a large guesthouse on the Citadel level, he had barely managed to take off his boots and unbuckle his sword before collapsing into bed. To his grief, Elizabeth sought a room of her own rather than be with him; indeed, she had made quite a point not to speak with him at all.

He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. This would not do, not do at all. It seemed she was unwilling to confront him about it; since that was the case, he would simply confront her.

He quickly took off his filthy shirt and washed himself in the cold water that was already his room. Did someone bring it even earlier or was it here the night before? He could not remember. Taking a sponge, he soaked it in the water and scrubbed his arms, torso, and face. He could see no soap around, but this was better than nothing. As he rubbed his head, he realized that his hair was filthy, too, and since the water was available, he had full intentions on using it to its complete potential. Dunking his head into the basin, careful to avoid getting his stitches wet, he scratched off his scalp the dirt from the road and the blood from the battle. When he straightened once more the water was brown from the filth.

Will took the clean linen laying nearby and dried himself quickly, glancing into the small wall mirror to his side. He was badly in need of a trim, he realized, but glancing around, he saw nothing to help him with that. He did see, however, that there was a comb for him. Well, at least he could make himself _somewhat_ presentable.

He quickly tugged the comb through his tangled knots, ignoring the pain as he pulled through them and ignoring how much hair he brought away each time he brushed. Finishing that quickly, he dug for a clean shirt in his pack, threw on his tunic, coat, and cloak after the shirt, swiftly put on his boots, and went to find Elizabeth.

To his utter surprise, she was not in her room still asleep. The bed was empty, covers thrown off the bed and her pack laid aside in the corner of the room. He looked around the rest of the house; Aragorn had made it in sometime during the night, and had apparently collapsed on the bed, not even bothering to take off his boots. Pippin eventually left Merry to come to the house as well, for he was in his own bed, sound asleep. Gimli, too, had found his way there, and so had Legolas, judging from the bow he found in another one of the rooms; the elf, however, was not there. Neither were Elladan, Elrohir, Gandalf, or Jack, the latter to his greatest surprise. He could not imagine where the captain was at this hour.

Nor his wife, for that matter. Since she was obviously not there, he stole from the house and began to explore the seventh level of the City. While a great white tower loomed above the rest of the level, it was not the only structure on the final level of Minas Tirith. The Citadel was filled with many buildings that, when it was filled, housed servants, soldiers, lords, and visitors. The young man ended up heading towards the tower, since he remembered from last night that it was the center of the Citadel. He could start searching from there.

He emerged from the rows of buildings and before him was a green courtyard. In the center of the courtyard, surrounded by guards, was a dead tree. Will slowly approached it, entranced by its strange beauty, but at the same time wondering why they would have guards around a tree, and a dead one at that.

But no! it was not dead. He suddenly spotted a couple of blooms on one of the branches, and then he remembered that it was only March; full spring had yet to come. Still, he made a note to himself to ask someone about the tree and about why it was guarded.

Will turned to the east and stared at the dawn. It was a much brighter dawn than the day before, now that the unnatural dark clouds were gone, but it was still darkened by the black mountains he could see in the distance. He already asked about them on their way up the Anduin. The answer given to him was grim: Mordor. Now he understood Boromir's words- and his despair. He, too, felt that he would give into despair if he had to look upon those borders day in and day out.

Suddenly, against the dawn light, he spotted the person he searched for. Standing at the edge of Citadel and leaning upon the eastern wall was Elizabeth, hair unbound and flowing softly in the morning breeze. As he approached her, he noticed that she had changed back into one of the traveling outfits given to her in Rivendell. It was the blue one; she looked beautiful in blue. Granted, she looked beautiful in anything, but he especially liked blue.

He stopped about five feet away from her; she made no indication that she heard his approach. Indeed, she seemed lost in thought, her gaze upon the ruined fields and the lands beyond.

"Elizabeth," he said softly. The slight tensing of her shoulders was the only sign she gave that she heard him. When she did not turn to him he came beside her; the woman kept her glance steadily upon the landscape, her eyes unreadable. "Elizabeth," he said again. No response. "Please, Elizabeth, listen to me." He put his hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly she reacted. Spinning around to face him, she lifted up her hand and smacked him across the face. He stared at her, mouth opened in shock, as she spoke to him for the first time since they found one another yesterday. "How dare you. How dare you!"

"If it means anything at this point, I am sorry," said Will.

"Sorry!" she all but yelled. When some watchmen further away raised their heads and glanced their way, she checked herself and lowered her voice. "Sorry? You go against my wishes and force me to stay behind by _drugging_ me and all you can say is _sorry_?"

"Nay," said Will, standing his ground. "Rather that I am sorry you are angry by my actions; I would not take back what I did."

Her jaw clenched. "You think it is only anger I feel? No, William Turner, I am not just angry. I am hurt. Out of all the people in both this world and ours I trusted you the most. I trusted you with all my heart! And you- you betrayed me." Her lips began to quiver but she only clenched her jaw more and ground her teeth together.

"When your father laid your hand in mine on our wedding day, he _entrusted_ your life to me!" said Will. "I will do all in my power to protect you."

"Even if it means going against my own desires?" said Elizabeth. "Would you keep me in a cage like some pretty songbird, always there for you to know and protect, for your pet has little knowledge of the world outside? Would you have me completely safe from harm and yet never free? Is that what I am to you?"

Will shook his head. "Of course not. But you cannot throw away your life just like that!"

"And you can?" she snapped. "You are free to do whatever you wish, and yet I must listen to your will? I escaped that future when I left England as a child for the Caribbean- when I married _you_," she snarled. "And yet you have proven yourself worse, for you haven't even considered how I feel when _you_ are in danger. Have you even thought about my own worries when we are apart, each minute wondering if you are dead, your body left rotting on a war-torn field or buried in a shallow, unmarked grave? You have not. All you can think about is your own peace of mind." She took a shuddering breath. "You selfish, cold-hearted bastard." And then her shoulders slumped, and she crumbled onto the bench beside the wall. She held her head in her hands and began to weep.

Will was struck dumb as her hot anger turned into shivering tears. Never before had he seen this happen to his wife, and the shock of it nearly brought him to his knees. He managed to sit himself down on the bench and gently he wrapped his arms about her. She let him hold her as she wept into his chest, and while he held her he did not seek to be the stronger and whisper words of smooth nothingness, but rather be her equal. And as she wept, he felt tears come to his own eyes and he bowed his head against hers.

"You are right," he spoke softly into her hair when her tears had lessened, "I did not think about your desires- your thoughts- your fears. I am sorry. So very sorry." Elizabeth sniffled but said nothing, and as her sobs lessened he continued to speak softly, as if to himself. "I still cannot forget the days after you were captured, for though it was a few weeks ago I still remember it like yesterday. It was worse than when you were held captive by Barbossa, for those Uruk-hai were crueler than any men I had ever seen before... and knowing you were with them, it was unbearable. I realized I could not bear to see you in such danger ever again, and I fear I let my worries overcome me."

"Those days were awful for me, as well," she muttered. "And not just because I was with those terrible creatures, but because I knew nothing about what happened to our friends- what happened to you. Every waking moment I wondered if you were already dead, and I-" She broke off and shook her head. "If it were not for Merry and Pippin, I don't know if I could have survived. I saw both Boromir and Gibbs die right before me, and I feared that you had died as well." She straightened and glanced at him. "When Gandalf told me that you were alive, my life had purpose again, for you mean more to me than anything else."

"And you to me," said Will. "It is one reason I acted as I did, though I understand your views now. But another reason I feared for you was Galadriel's message to me."

"Message?" Elizabeth frowned. "What was her message?"

To the best of his memory, he repeated the riddle-like message Gandalf had told him in Fangorn. His wife frowned as she listened to it.

"That is rather cryptic."

"It is. I thought it meant that you would die if you came with me to war and that I had to let you go for a while."

"I think it means something completely different. It sounded as if she were warning you to not let your love for me cause you to do something rash."

"Then what about the funeral bells mentioned?" he asked. "You could only die if you came to war."

"Not necessarily," she argued. "I cannot see how I could live without you. Besides, who is to say that it meant I was to die? I am here and I not dead." Her eyes suddenly lit up in realization. "And it was _you_ who nearly died yesterday! And if I had not been here, you would have died! So I was meant to be here!"

"We cannot know for certain," he began, but she cut him off.

"Of course we can! You almost died, I saved your life, it was clearly meant to be." She rose from the bench and glanced out to the east. "I knew I made the right decision."

Will sighed, not wishing to argue with her and cause any more strife between them. He rose and joined her, gently wrapping his arms around her. She let him but snorted softly.

"Don't think this means I am not still angry with you," she said. "And Aragorn too, for that matter. I will talk with him later today."

"Do not be too hard on him."

"Hmm. Perhaps. We will see." She leaned against him, any anger that did linger overcome by her desire for comfort and peace with her husband. As Elizabeth looked out to the east she muttered, "As it is, I fear that this battle will not be the last we see. I do not know what will happen, but something in my heart tells me that there is more yet to come before we reach the end." She glanced up at Will. "And I will be there with you to meet it."

He nodded. "I wish it otherwise, but I will not gainsay your will."

Satisfied with his answer, she turned once more to the east, and they silently watched the sun as it rose to bring a new day to Middle-earth.


	39. The Final Plans

Some dialogue borrowed from the book and films (mixed to fit my own purposes, as usual).

* * *

Chapter 39: The Final Plans

"You pledged yourself to _who_?"

"I pledged myself to Lord Denethor. He- he wasn't so bad... at first." Pippin fell silent.

Anamaria stared at him. "From the rumors I've heard around, he was a raving lunatic."

Gathered outside in one of the gardens of the Houses of Healing were, sans Aragorn and Gandalf, the Fellowship of the Ring reunited with each other again. They lounged around in a large circle on the benches and the grass, for the most part relaxed and content.

Both the hobbits were changed into their own clothes rather than their uniforms, and the others were not dressed for war, a rare reprieve in those days. Anamaria wore a spare gown of the Houses, for her spare clothing had been in her pack, and her pack had been with Brego, and she had not seen the horse ever since he ran off the day before. She did hope he was still alive and that the pack was still with him.

Currently they were in the middle of sharing stories of what happened to each of them once they had split up. The others had finished their stories, and now Pippin was in the middle of his.

"It was because he had a _palantír_," the hobbit argued, "or, so I think. Gandalf indicated that. He mentioned something about- about the Enemy poisoning his mind and slowly driving him to despair, or something of the like. I don't quite remember."

"You are jumping ahead," Jack complained. "We haven't reached the part where he completely lost his mind." Pippin slightly shuddered. "You were saying something about Boromir's brother returning," he added helpfully, not quite sure what to make of Pippin's strange reaction. Mad men could be... strange, but usually not all that frightening, and something about this late Denethor still seemed to bother the young hobbit.

"Oh, yes! Faramir returned from Ithilien, being chased by the Black Riders, but Gandalf helped him and his men escape and come to the City. But that is not the important part; he had seen Frodo and Sam!"

"Frodo and Sam!" said Gimli. "How were they?"

"As well as could be, from what he told us. Faramir helped them and gave them supplies, but wherever they were going neither Gandalf nor he liked. And they were being led by Gollum, which I think is even worse!"

"Gollum?" Will frowned as he tried to recall where he had heard the name before, and then suddenly he remembered. "Gollum was the creature following us; the one that once had the Ring." Pippin nodded.

"Why would they be following Gollum?" Elizabeth asked. "All I remember about him is how vile he was supposed to be." No one had an answer.

"How long ago was this?" Merry asked after a brief pause. To hear some news about his cousin and friend filled him with joy.

"Well, when Faramir told the story, it was two days ago... so now that would be over a week ago." Pippin sighed. "A lot can happen in a week."

Legolas nodded thoughtfully. "So it can. I am, however, curious as to where they were going that so filled Mithrandir and Faramir with dread. Do you remember the name of the place, Pippin?"

The hobbit frowned. "Cir-something, and a long word, or two. Cir-en-gol-something."

"Cirith Ungol," said the elf in sudden realization. "I have heard the name before."

"What is it?" Anamaria asked, adjusting the stool that propped up her bad leg.

"It is a road of sorts in the Morgul Vale that, rumor says, leads into Mordor. It is very close to Minas Morgul, the home of the Nine- now eight, thanks in part to you," he said suddenly, turning to Merry with a smile.

"Éowyn did most of it," he shrugged. "I just helped a little."

"You helped greatly, and few among both Men and elves can claim so great a feat," said Legolas.

"Dwarves, too," Gimli added, glancing sideways at the elf. He shrugged lightly.

"Alright, any path near wherever the Ringwraiths call home is a good enough explanation for me as to why the old man didn't like it," said Jack. "So Faramir saw Frodo and Sam and told his story. Then?"

"Denethor then sent Faramir and a company of men to hold Osgiliath, the ruined city on the river, the next morning."

Will frowned. "Tough father."

"You have no idea. As it is, Faramir came back two days later, badly wounded. It was then that Denethor, well, he started acting... strange." Pippin closed his eyes briefly before continuing. "The orcs started attacking the City the next day, and it was mostly Gandalf and Prince Imrahil commanding the men, for the Steward had locked himself up in the White Tower with Faramir. Faramir got worse as the battle continued, and with his health failing, Denethor only became stranger. He finally decided that there was no hope and that he was going to burn himself and Faramir alive."

"See! Told you he was mad," said Anamaria.

"I already told you about the _palantír_," Pippin argued. "He was apparently looking into it when locked away in the White Tower, saw the corsair ships and thought them to be enemies, and then despaired. He held it in his hands even- even as he burned himself alive," he ended quietly.

A silence lay upon the group for a few minutes as they let Pippin compose himself, for they could easily see that the memories still bothered him. "How was Faramir rescued?" Elizabeth asked softly.

Pippin smiled. "Beregond, the guard who even now stands by Faramir's door. Denethor released me from his service, so I went to get Gandalf, telling Beregond to stop them from killing Faramir in the meanwhile. He did, slaying three men to protect him and to delay his father's actions. I'm afraid for Beregond; he says that his life is now forfeit for killing them."

"But he did it to save Faramir from his crazy father," Anamaria argued. "No one in their right mind would find him guilty."

"Aragorn shall likely see his case, if he comes to his claim," said Legolas. "He will make a fair and just decision."

"Speaking of which, where is he?" Merry asked. "I have not seen him since last night."

"He was up late, healing many afflicted with the Black Breath," Legolas answered. "He still slept when I woke this morning."

"You are always awake before us, elf," muttered Gimli. "As it is, I imagine he is with his Rangers, hiding from the curious people wanting to see this rumored king. He has no wish to make his claim yet. I heard you didn't make it any easier for him last night," he said pointedly to Jack, a smirk across his face.

Jack blinked. "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. The man noticed the gesture and, seeing her leaning comfortably against Will, turned towards her. "Now I'm wondering when you two made up."

"Made up? You two were in a fight?" Pippin asked.

"It's not important," Will shrugged.

Elizabeth only smiled annoyingly sweetly at Jack before turning to the elf. "There is something I really don't understand about your story, Legolas. Why did you mention the gulls? What do you mean by the sea calling to you?"

Quickly Legolas explained to her about the sea-longing, giving her and the others the same explanation he gave Will and Jack just a few days ago. When finished, Anamaria was the first one to speak.

"Are you saying that your, eh, mind will always be thinking about the ocean until you actually take a boat out to, well, wherever you're supposed to go?" The elf nodded. "Man, that's much worse than Jack's own case of sea-longing."

"Oh, no, the sea is always on my mind, love," Jack said with a swift grin. "Granted, I don't have a destination, but I certainly want to sail. And I will, the first moment I can."

"Which won't be today," Will said. "Gandalf mentioned some sort of council this morning that is going to take place sometime later today, and, well, Elizabeth overheard..."

The woman in question mockingly shoved him. "I like to be kept up to date with events!"

"And so we'll be going, at the least," Jack ended.

"As will the elf and I," said Gimli. "Lady Elizabeth is not the only one who likes to know all that is going on."

"Then you can tell us how it goes," Merry said. "I'm not allowed to leave the Houses, and Anamaria had a hard enough time getting out here."

She snorted. "I'll stay in this place for a few days, sure, but it's not bloody likely I'll stay inside the whole time. They've realized that."

"And I'll stay with you two," said Pippin. "I'm not quite sure if I'm part of the Guard anymore; if anything, I don't have any duties today. And I'm not interested in this meeting, I've sat through enough councils and moots these last few months to last me a lifetime."

"We'll be sure to tell you what happens," Elizabeth said.

"How are the other wounded doing?" Legolas asked. "I did not see Aragorn heal them, but I heard the stories of his feats."

"Some truer than the others," Gimli added. "I wasn't quite convinced of the one where he brought a dead man back to life after defeating some dark, ghost-like shadow."

Merry laughed. "No, he didn't do quite that, but he did make the cold feeling in my arm and the shadow upon my heart disappear- at least, for the most part." He paused for a moment as he recalled yesterday's events. "And the others in the Houses seem well, from what I've seen. I visited Lady Éowyn and she was alive and happy to see me living, though she seemed even colder than usual."

"She's dealing with a lot of things," Anamaria shrugged. "I was able to meet Boromir's brother for the first time; he was talking with Amrothos, that man I came with to the Houses of Healing."

"Lord Imrahil's son, and so Lord Faramir's cousin," Pippin clarified.

"Yea, sure," she shrugged again, not quite remembering who Imrahil was. "They were both awake and didn't seem to be in too much pain. Anyways, he seems nice, though a little quieter than Boromir was."

"Did he know that you knew his brother?" Will asked.

"Yea; I think Amrothos told him about me or something because he knew my name. We talked a little this morning about the Fellowship." She glanced at Will and Legolas with a smirk. "They had heard from Amrothos' old man about how incredibly alike your features were and asked about that. Know anything about that yet, o wise elf?"

The elf in question smiled. "Not wise enough to answer such a question. Even Mithrandir has said nothing about the subject."

"I doubt we'll ever have a satisfactory answer," said Will. "At least you have light hair so people can't confuse us."

The other frowned. "Who would confuse an elf with a mortal?"

"You've already forgotten what happened in Rivendell, eh?" Jack shook his head sadly. "Your memory is rather poor for an elf."

"That does not count," Legolas waved him off.

Just then the bells of the City rang out half a dozen times, indicating that it was noon. "We should go up to the Citadel and find something to eat," said Elizabeth. "Right after that is the council and we don't want to be late."

"Make sure to come down here and tell us what's happening," said Merry. She nodded, and with smiles and farewells, the five departed, leaving the two hobbits and the dark-haired woman on the green.

O0O0O0O

It was just past midday when the meeting was called among the lead players in the war against Sauron. Gathered in a council room in the Citadel were a dozen individuals, expressions ranging from grim contemplation to carefully schooled facades of peace.

"My lords," started Gandalf, "and lady," he nodded towards Elizabeth. She smiled briefly at the acknowledgement. "You all know as well as I that this is not yet the end of the war. Sauron has suffered a defeat, but behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping. He would not have used all of his forces against us in this first blow, however great; long years has he been gathering his strength and what we saw was but a taste of his power."

"If that is so," said Imrahil, "we cannot hope to achieve victory through strength of arms."

"No, we cannot," agreed the wizard. "But nonetheless I still hope for victory, though not by arms. There is another element to consider: in the midst of this war is the Ring of Power, the foundation of Barad-dûr and the hope of Sauron, now headed towards Mount Doom in Frodo's hands."

"Can we be so sure?" asked Halbarad. He glanced at his chieftain, but Aragorn's eyes were unreadable.

"If Sauron had the Ring we would know it," said Elladan. "He would already be moving against us. Frodo yet lives."

"Yes," said Gandalf. "If the Enemy does regain the Ring, all of our valor will be in vain and his victory will be swift and complete, so complete that none can foresee the end of it while this world lasts. If it is destroyed, then he will fall, and his fall will be so low that none can foresee his arising ever again."

"Useful," Jack muttered to those around him. Legolas smiled briefly and Gimli grunted in acknowledgement, but both Will and Elizabeth seemed deep in thought.

The wizard continued. "Now, Sauron knows that the Ring has been found again, but he does not yet know where it is, or so we hope. And there are some among us that have the strength to wield it, and that he fears. Do I guess rightly, Aragorn, that you showed yourself to him in the Stone of Orthanc?"

"So I did, before we rode from Helm's Deep," said Aragorn. "I deemed that the time was right."

"And you won the encounter, didn't you?" Will asked. The Ranger nodded.

"That victory has surely troubled him," said Legolas thoughtfully.

"Yes," Gandalf replied. "And that was only the beginning of his unease. Sauron's doubt will be growing even now, with his defeats here on the Pelennor and the appearance of Isildur's heir heavy on his mind. His Eye is now straining towards us, blind almost to all else that moves. So we must keep it, and therein lies our hope."

"How are we to keep his attention upon us?" asked Éomer.

"As I said, he knows the Ring has been found, and likely suspects one of us to be its keeper, for not even in his darkest dreams does he imagine that we would seek to destroy it. We must encourage him to continue thinking as such. As Aragorn has begun, so we must go on. We must call out Sauron's hidden strength so he will empty his land; we must march to the Black Gate, giving Frodo the time to cross the plains of Gorgoroth and reach Orodruin."

Elizabeth frowned. "Would he not suspect a trap and see it as the diversion it is?"

"No, I believe he will take the bait." Gandalf glanced at Aragorn. "It is probable that he suspects the heir of Isildur as a likely bearer of the Ring at this time. If he sees an army of Men at his doorstep, led by the one who claims to be the King of Gondor, his jaws will close upon us swiftly in hope and greed, for he will think that he sees the rash actions of the new, prideful Ring-lord.

"We must walk open-eyed into his trap, with courage but small hope for ourselves. It may well prove that, even if the Ring-bearer is successful, we will perish in the battle and not live to see a new age. But this, I deem, is our duty. And better so to die before the Black Gate than here, waiting for death to come to us, knowing that no new age shall come."

For a moment, there was only silence in the room. At length Aragorn raised his head and said, "I will go on and take this role, for I trust your counsel. But my part is my own, and I will not command anyone upon this matter; let others choose as they will."

"As your people have followed you always, we will follow you to the end," said Halbarad. "I see none in the Grey Company staying behind, and I would bear your standard once more." The other Dúnadan bowed his head in thanks.

"From the North we came with the Dúnedain with this purpose, and we will not turn back," said Elrohir, glancing at his brother before turning back to Gandalf and Aragorn.

"I will go as well," said Éomer. "I do not claim to have much knowledge on these deep matters, but I understand that Aragorn, who succored me and my people, has need of aid. Rohan will be there when you march."

Imrahil nodded. "While you make no claim as of yet," he started to Aragorn, "I still hold you to be my liege-lord, and I will go with you as well."

The remainder of the Fellowship said nothing for a moment. The dwarf glanced at them before speaking. "Certainty of death and a small chance of success?" Gimli made as if he were pondering the question. "What are we waiting for?" The others all smiled or chuckled softly, but even as he did so, Jack's eyes were dark and unreadable.

"So the King of Gondor will lead us into this battle, and that is all well and good," started Elizabeth, "but if you are to act the part of a king, you need new clothes," she nodded towards Aragorn.

The man frowned. "What is wrong with what I am wearing?"

"It doesn't look nearly kingly enough," she answered. "Both lords Éomer and Imrahil wear very well-tailored clothing befitting of their stations and so should you. Besides, if we want Sauron to assume you've officially taken your part as king and are of the sort that is too brash and cocky for his own good, you need to look the part."

"That is something to consider," said Legolas thoughtfully, enjoying the look on the Ranger's face. "Prince Imrahil, could something suitable for a king be found before our departure?"

"I would imagine so," he replied, keeping his expression carefully schooled. "Servants around the Citadel can assist you in your venture, my lady."

"There is still the matter of the defense of Minas Tirith to consider," said Aragorn, quickly moving the subject away from his appearance.

In the end, they decided they were to leave the day after tomorrow. Boats from the South that had not come with Aragorn's company were still arriving at the docks carrying reinforcements for the City, and he told them about his encounter with Angbor at Linhir and expected him to bring a force of a few thousand by the time they departed. By the end of their discussion, they found that they could go with seven thousand soldiers, one thousand on horses and the rest on foot, and still leave the City with good defense.

Still, even seven thousand was but a drop in the bucket of the numbers under Sauron. Even as their talk drew to a close, Imrahil suddenly laughed aloud.

"Surely this is the greatest jest in all the history of Gondor, that we should ride with such a number to assail the mountains and the impenetrable gate of Mordor! If the Dark Lord knows so much as you say, Mithrandir, will he not rather smile than fear us, and with his little finger crush us like a fly that tries to sting him?"

"No, he will try to trap the fly and take the sting," Gandalf answered. "And there are names among us that are worth more than a thousand knights. No, he will not smile."

"And neither shall we," said Aragorn. "If this be jest, then it is too bitter for laughter. This is our last move, and for one side or the other it will be the end of the game."

Silence fell across the chamber as the impact of Aragorn's words came down upon them all. Though not said, instinctively they knew that the council was over, and Jack was the first to leave, turning on his heels and departing the room without a word. Elizabeth glanced at him as he left, unable to keep the worry off her face.

"Something's bothering him," she said.

"So I feel as well," said Legolas. "Give him time; it seems he wishes to be alone."

Will nodded silently, but then frowned slightly as he watched Gandalf, Aragorn, Éomer, and Imrahil as they still looked over a map, quietly discussing their route. "What did Gandalf mean by Sauron 'trapping the fly and taking the sting'? I mean, I understand that there is a large chance that we will not get out of this alive, but what he suggested sounded much... worse."

Legolas closed his eyes briefly. "If we do not succeed, death on the battlefield will be the greatest mercy any of us can receive. The Dark Lord shows little mercy to his greatest enemies, and some in this room are among them." He glanced at Aragorn for a moment before turning back to Will. "Do you understand?"

The others followed his glance and understood. "That would be a fate worse than death," Elizabeth muttered with a shudder.

"And Middle-earth would be doomed," said Gimli. "Let us hope that this diversion gives Frodo the time he needs."

O0O0O0O

He stared unseeing over the parapet into the East, the dark clouds of Mordor mingling with his thoughts. The words uttered by Gandalf and the others echoed in his head and his mind tossed about as it tried to come up with some sort of compromise to this situation. It attempted to find something that would appease his old sense of self-preservation and his new sense of loyalty to these people. So far it was not successful.

'_You heard what the old man said: there is little hope for survival! Jack Sparrow does not walk into traps without some sort of plan to get out_,' one part of his mind argued.

'_Little hope does not mean none at all_,' another part rebutted. '_Besides, I should stick with them_.'

'_You should grab the nearest ship and sail away right now_,' the first part shot back.

'_And abandon my friends at a crucial moment?_'

'_Jack Sparrow looks out for one person only: himself_.'

'_Not anymore- I think. Besides, they've saved my life many times. They're not just anyone_.'

'_And you've saved theirs time and time again; it's high time to call it a day and leave._'

'_This is the battle to end it all, not some mere skirmish over some gold- not that gold isn't worth a little tussle, just so long as you have an advantage- but this battle decides if this world will be free to argue over said riches_.'

'_You're not a part of this world_.'

'_Am I not? I've helped shape its future quite a bit already, you know_.'

'_In the end, you can't see what happens to this world _or_ its gold if you're dead_.'

"You look deep in thought," another voice broke in, abruptly ending his inner debate.

Jack blinked as he came back to reality. He glanced to his right and said nothing in response to the wizard that now stood beside him; he was pretty sure he did not want to talk to him right now.

Gandalf ignored the lack of response. "The tension that came to you during the council still lies on your shoulders; does something trouble you about the decisions made?"

The man cast another glance his way and cursed to himself; it was obvious that the wizard was only questioning something he already knew. "Me? Troubled? I cannot begin to comprehend where such a thought came from," he replied casually.

"You cannot hope to mask yourself by wordplay, Jack Sparrow," the other rebutted.

"I merely respond to what has been given to me, savvy?"

"And what have I given you, pray tell?" He pulled out his pipe.

"Wordplay."

Gandalf chuckled lightly as he took out a pinch of pipe-weed from a pouch at his side and put it into the pipe. "Perhaps so. Very well then, I will be direct." He lit the pipe and slowly inhaled before let out a smoke ring; Jack idly watched the smoke ring dance around the both of them in several directions before the old man let it go off into the wind. "You do not want to march to the Black Gate."

He opened his mouth to argue, but closed it with a snap. The other had just made a smoke ring _flutter_ around the both of them; a heartless rebuttal against this fellow seemed rather useless at this point. He wanted Gandalf to go away sooner rather than later, and the wizard looked to be in his insufferably patient mood rather than his easily annoyed mood; it would take hours of dodging the question to make him go away, and he had no patience for such an encounter, and highly doubted that the others would look kindly to him if he shot the old man in his annoyance. For now he would play his game, just to see where it was going. After all, he rarely talked to him one on one. He hoped these conversations would remain infrequent.

"Aye."

"Ah," was all Gandalf said in reply. Another smoke ring- this one was a golden brown. It turned into a ship before flying off into the distance. "You do realize that you do not have to go."

He said nothing in reply; it was not a question. Again, Gandalf only repeated what he knew. The wind tugged at his hat and he unconsciously pulled it down, though he knew that few winds were strong enough to tug it from his head. His hands moved from his head to the stone ledge; he fought back the urge to tap his fingers impatiently. The old man would get to his point eventually.

To Jack's relief, it came sooner rather than later. After another smoke ring- it turned into a light blue seagull this time- the wizard spoke again. "Ever since you first came here your heart has longed for the sea- it's a calling in your blood, a calling very much like the one that haunts elves struck with sea-longing. And yet a new calling competes with this one, one you are familiar with but not at this level." The captain made the mistake at glancing at Gandalf; the other caught his gaze and Jack found himself lost in its depths momentarily before he was able to turn away. How did the other manage to read him like an open book?

'_Wizard_,' a part of his mind helpfully reminded him.

'_Ah, right_.'

"This calling," continued Gandalf, "is camaraderie, fellowship, friendship. You surely have experienced this before, you once being who you were." Jack turned sharply towards him; he was not sure what that sudden change of tone at the end of the sentence was, but he suspected that Aragorn's supposition of the wizard having some sort of idea about his days of piracy was not far from the truth.

The other continued, either not noticing or ignoring Jack's look. "And now this clashes with your spirit, the man you were sure made all of your essence." Another smoke ring: this one, dark red, rather than turning into a shape tore into two before fading away.

What he would give to be in a place of his element; this was all too strange for him. "Ah, now camaraderie I know well enough. This? This is beyond that, mate." It was a feeling unlike he had felt in years, truth be told. A feeling he had not had over anyone ever since Barbossa and his old crew betrayed him- with perhaps the exception of Gibbs, but even then he was not quite sure. "This so-called calling, as you say, it's not really my nature- well, wasn't. I'm not quite sure what's my nature now, and that is a rather annoying state to be in."

Gandalf chuckled slightly. "A being's nature- a Man's, especially- is ever changing as his life goes on and new experiences unfold." Another smoke ring- they turned into gold coins. "Tell me, Captain Sparrow, if the West falls and you remain alive, would you captain a ship under the Dark Lord?"

"I captain a ship under no one but my own self."

"Even if compensated well?"

He turned slightly to him. "I am my own master."

A nod, and another smoke ring; this time it remained a smoke ring as it faded into the distance. "So I thought, but it is still good to hear."

Jack's lips quirked upward to form a slight smile. "Not soon after we first met, Will spoke in my defense, said I was a good man." He inspected his fingers. "I suppose this is the final test."

"No," Gandalf shook his head. "You have shown your quality many times throughout this journey, despite any wrongdoings you committed in your past."

Another quirk in his lips. "Aragorn supposed you knew."

"You cannot conceal many things from me," he replied, "nor Aragorn, for he is very farseeing for a Man, and has been with you every day for a while. Tell me, do any others know?"

"Apart from those that came with me, only Galadriel. Maybe Elrond, too, he seems to be your type, though he was rather trusting, letting me go with the Fellowship..."

"Master Elrond has seen many evils committed by otherwise good people," said Gandalf. "Lady Galadriel and, even in his shorter mortal lifespan, Aragorn, have as well. They may understand you better than even those who were once a part of your crew." He exhaled, smoke slightly obscuring his face for a moment. "What you have to decide, Jack Sparrow, is which calling commands your soul for this moment and for the days before the end of this war. What do you consider your companions' lives to be worth when compared to your own, and do you have the courage- or perhaps the foolishness- to stand with them at the end? No one will condemn you for your choice, just so long as you are not torn in two when you make it." He said nothing in reply and only nodded absentmindedly when Gandalf bid him farewell and left him to his thoughts.

He stood there silently for a long time, silently mulling over the wizard's words and weighing them with the silent debates he held in his mind. The debates, now mixed with Gandalf's advice, finally started to weigh to one side, and by the time it was mid-afternoon he had come to a decision.

A slight smile decorated his face. The word 'mad' had been applied to him many times in the past; perhaps it was time to start truly living up to it.

O0O0O0O

"You cannot be serious."

"Of course we are. Don't look at me like that, Aragorn, we came back with quite a few choices."

"Most of them completely impractical for riding."

"I did say he would mention that, my lady."

"Then why did you even bring them here, kinsman?"

"She would not be dissuaded."

"Oh, Halbarad, don't start siding with him." Elizabeth glanced at the two men exasperatedly. As she had been the one to suggest Aragorn receive some new armor, she was the one who received the job of finding something for him. To be quite honest, it had not been an arduous task at all. There were several servants around the Citadel willing to help her and, she being well aware of Aragorn's simple clothing preferences after traveling with him for so long, was quite glad to choose the most elaborate and embellished pieces she could find, seeing, as she was still irate with him over their last parting.

A most unexpected ally to her assignment turned out to be Halbarad. Along with being around the same size as his chieftain and so a decent clothing dummy, he was also eager to see Aragorn adorned with attire proper for his station. Whether he knew of his cousin's simple tastes or not she was not quite sure; she had a feeling he did, which made the task all the more enjoyable.

"I hope you do not expect me to wear the chest plate." Aragorn folded his arms.

"Which chest plate?" She mirrored his look.

"_All_ chest plates."

Halbarad's lips twitched. "There is the leather surcoat."

"That will do," the other man said, glancing through the rest of the clothing. "And a chain mail shirt shall do well enough underneath."

"Along with these clothes, of course," Elizabeth pointed out the red shirt and sleeveless robe.

"Of course," he replied dryly. "Why red?"

"You look good in red." He raised an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. "_Arwen_ says you look good in red."

Now both his eyebrows were up. "Does she?"

"Yes." Both men were now staring at her, waiting for some sort of explanation. She provided none. "And we brought these boots, and many choices of armor- pauldrons, rebraces, greaves, couters, helms, and vambraces-" She paused, her sharp tone softening. "Unless, that is, you want to keep the vambraces you're already wearing."

He glanced down at the vambraces- Boromir's vambraces that he wore in his memory. "These should go to his brother," he said softly. "I will return them ere we set out."

She nodded silently and then suddenly frowned. "I almost forgot; I found something perfect to go with this, after you left yesterday, Halbarad. I will be right back; in the meanwhile, best try it all on to see that it fits." With that, she shot them a quick, emotionless smile and left the room.

Halbarad frowned as she left. "I do not know her well, but she is sharper than yesterday when I was with her. It is strange."

Aragorn nodded in agreement. "I have spoken with her little since our arrival in Minas Tirith, but I have noticed that as well. I shall speak to her about it and see what is troubling her. In the meanwhile, pretend you noticed nothing."

"That shall be easy enough. Come now, my lord, best do as the young mistress ordered." They chuckled and saw to fitting his outfit.

Within a quarter of an hour later, Elizabeth was back outside of Aragorn's room with a large bundle in her hand. She knocked sharply on the door and, after a shout to enter, opened it and walked into the room. As Halbarad adjusted the surcoat, she nodded approvingly.

"It fits. Good. All you need now is this." She shook out her bundle, revealing a long black cloak lined in red. Before he could say anything on it, she stepped behind him and attached it to the surcoat. She walked around him, nodding approvingly. "Much better. You look very much like a king now, although... are you not going to wear a helm?"

"No. It hinders my vision."

"I think it would look rather menacing, but if you insist..." He stared evenly at her. "Very well, no helm!" she snapped. The two men exchanged a look, but the young woman did not notice as she walked behind him. "Something must be done with your hair, then. Honestly, when was the last time it has seen a comb?"

"There has been little time for such matters these past days," the man noted wryly.

"Not to mention that there is little use carrying one around in the Wild," Halbarad added.

"So you may think." She rolled her eyes and from her pocket produced a comb. "I've had mine since Rivendell."

"In your pocket?" Halbarad asked incredulously.

"Of course not. I grabbed it from my room on the way here; I had a feeling neither of you would have a comb handy." She led Aragorn towards a chair, and he let himself be led, amused by her audacity and confused by her short temperament. He heard his kinsman chuckle behind him as he watched the scene. "And you, Lord Halbarad, can make yourself useful and put all this unused attire back where it belongs," she shot at him.

He chuckled once more. "I will see it done, my lady, but you do realize we are not leaving today, do you not?"

"Yes," she sniped back. "But if we leave this to tomorrow, we'll never leave on time. Clean or not, there are simply too many tangles. It looks as if a bird or two made a nest out of your hair."

Aragorn frowned and Halbarad burst out laughing. Taking the unused armor, he left the room, chuckling as he shut the door. When he had left, the woman took the comb to his hair and began to tug violently at it. By the third time she pulled the comb through, bringing several strands of hair with it, Aragorn stood and gently held her wrist.

"I thought you were a little short of temper today, but you are not usually so aggressive." She pulled her arm out of his grasp but said nothing. "Why are you so tense, Elizabeth?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said nothing and merely watched her, the power of his bloodline visible in his gaze. In the end she had to look away, and when she did, she threw the comb down and turned her back to him. "Do not look at me so!"

He picked the comb up and put it on the table. "You are angry with me." She said nothing. "This is about what happened at Dunharrow, is it not?"

The young woman spun to face him, and her face was pale. "How could you? How could you aid my husband in his terrible scheme!"

"I understood his motivation; he only wished to see you safe."

"And I want Will to remain safe- goodness, I want all of you to be safe! - but the current state of this world doesn't allow it, not completely. You, out of all people, know that." He nodded silently, but let her continue. "I have already talked with my husband, but I want to make it clear that I will not have anyone, including you, compromising my freedom for my supposed safety. After all we've been through, even though it has only been a short few months, I consider you a friend and friends don't do that to each other."

"I consider you a friend as well, Elizabeth, and I apologize if I have caused you hurt," he said softly. "Nonetheless, the past is past, so now that you have spoken your mind, I hope you may forgive and move on."

She nodded. "I may, on one condition: do not try to stop me from going with you tomorrow. I have made it this far and I plan on seeing it to the end at my husband's and my friends' sides."

"I had no intention to try and keep you from coming with us," he answered, "and I know you realize that it is likely that none of us will come back alive."

"I know." She sighed and smiled slightly. "As it is, your hair still needs to be untangled; it really is in terrible shape. Do sit down so I can help you, you do need it."

"I can comb my own hair."

"With those pauldrons? Not very easily. And this needs to be done now; I doubt you'll have any time tomorrow."

"Then a little more gently, if you will," he said with a slight smile as he sat down.

"Oh, yes, err, sorry. Of course," she muttered.

Only silence passed between them as she gently pulled the knots apart. "You truly do not need to do this if you do not want to," he stated.

"I have nothing better to do at the moment, and if you could see if for yourself, you'd agree with me that your hair needs help. It may be clean but that does not completely untangle it. As it is, Will is seeing that our swords are sharpened and then is trying on some armor of sorts for tomorrow. Jack has disappeared somewhere, and Anamaria has been in a strange mood and wishes mostly to be left alone. Everyone else is out and about with various duties, so I might as well make myself useful." She chuckled gently to herself.

"I saw Will earlier today; it seems this comb has already seen his hair."

"Oh, yes, his hair was just as bad as yours." She shook her head. "I don't know why you men don't carry combs around with you."

"Mine was left at Parth Galen by the Anduin," Aragorn said softly.

"Oh," she stated, unsure how to reply for a moment. "Mine was in my pack, and Will was kind enough to bring it along after, well, you know." She was still not very keen on talking about her time with the Uruk-hai.

"You know, today must be the first time I'm brushing another's hair since I was a child. Back in the Caribbean, I rarely ever worked on my own hair, always having a maid to do it for me. It's a little bit strange, admittedly."

"Strange is a suitable word," he said dryly. "I've taken care of my own needs for decades."

"Oh, I know how self-reliant you are," she stated, "but I suppose that after all this is over you'll have a dozen women available to brush your hair." 'Assuming we survive' she left unsaid.

"And they'll soon learn that I am quite capable of seeing to my own needs-"

"When you aren't wearing several pounds of armor," she interrupted with a grin. "I know. Still, you get used to it. I've lived with it all my life and I was to marry a rich governor or high-ranking officer with enough money to keep me comfortable for the rest of my days. I ended up with a blacksmith." The young woman chuckled.

"I did not realize that you two came from such different backgrounds."

"Very different. We first met when we were children, when I was sailing the ocean to reach the Caribbean, a group of islands far away from our original home. In the middle of the voyage, we came upon a ship that had been attacked and destroyed by pirates. Will was on a large piece of driftwood from the wreck, I spotted him, and the men brought him aboard. Once we reached Port Royal, the blacksmith and his wife took him in. They had no child and thought he would make a good apprentice." She lifted the comb one last time and put it back in her pocket. "There, I got the worst of them." She frowned as she glanced at his reflection in the small mirror in front of him, taking two parts of his hair and pinching them back momentarily before letting them drop. "Remind me to find a tie for your hair; I think if you put it back like the elves often do it would look nice, and keep the hair out of your eyes. I should do the same for Will."

"Yes, that can be done tomorrow." He stood and turned his chair around to face her as she sat down on the bed across from him. "Please continue your story." Despite being continually with at least a couple of those from the Caribbean for the last few months, he still knew little about their home or their pasts, despite the odd references they made every now and again to it, and was interested in knowing more.

"Oh, well, the years passed, and I saw Will from time to time, and I know now that he fancied me for quite a few years. I certainly held a sort of strange affection for him, but it did not blossom into love until eight years later. That's when we met Jack and his crew for the first time; that would be over a year and a half ago, now.

"Pirates led by a man named Barbossa attacked Port Royal and kidnapped me for reasons that are rather complicated. They were cursed and thought at first that I was the person they needed to break it, but it was really Will. Jack and Will came and rescued me with his crew, though Jack was left behind in the mess and taken by the pirates. Our ship was attacked and we were all taken by Barbossa's crew, but Will told them he was the one they needed and threatened to blow his head off if they didn't release me. They did release Jack and me- on a small, deserted island." She suddenly smiled. "Will was terribly angry.

"We managed to get off the island the next day when my father's ship came. Jack and I managed to convince them to fight the pirates and save Will, and after quite a few tricks and diversions, we all managed to get out of the situation alive. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I fell in love with Will and my father allowed our union. He courted me for about a year before we married, and we were planning our honeymoon when we ended up here in Middle-earth."

"I did not realize you were only recently wedded."

"Oh, yes, well, after we started meeting everyone, thoughts of a honeymoon were put off." She shrugged lightheartedly.

He smiled slightly. "Do you two plan to celebrate your honeymoon, then, when this is all over?"

Her eyes darkened in uncertainty. "I don't know. I don't know if we can even go back. And after all that has happened here, I- I don't know what decision we shall make if we have the choice."

Aragorn's face lit in understanding. "You have grown accustomed to Middle-earth."

"Not just Middle-earth, but the people here. In these short months, I have become closer to all of you than I was ever to anyone in the Caribbean that is not here now, except my father, that is. But he is growing old, and I know Will has made good friends here, too, and Anamaria likes it here as well. I think even Jack has grown to appreciate the place. I don't know what we'll do, if we survive until the end."

"You have time yet to make your decision," he said. She only nodded.

There was a knock on the door, and after an affirmative call from Aragorn, Halbarad walked in. He glanced at Elizabeth and, seeing her relaxed posture and wrathless eyes, smiled. "You seem to have defeated your foe, Lady Elizabeth." He nodded towards the other man's hair.

"Very funny," she rolled her eyes, but smiled. "It will save us all a bit of time tomorrow."

"So it will," the other replied. "In the meanwhile, tomorrow is not yet come so I best aid you out of this armor," he said to Aragorn.

"And I will seek out my husband," said the young woman. "I imagine he has finished by now and is probably looking for me. If I do not see you at supper, I will see you tomorrow morning." She smiled to them in parting and closed the door behind her.


	40. The Beginning of the End

Chapter 40: The Beginning of the End

The sun was setting when the army stopped after their first day's march from the City. Will was admittedly glad to see the sun after so many days of shadow; he hoped Sauron's unnatural darkness would never spread as it did again. He saw that they stopped at a meeting of four roads: the Cross-roads of Old Gondor, or so he heard Gandalf call them.

"Look," muttered Pippin, who sat in front of him. He pointed to a great statue in front of them, facing southwards. It was the statue of a sitting king, once great and mighty but gnawed away by the years and the enemies of Gondor. Where once sat his head was an ugly rock carved with hideous, orc-like features. The man glanced about and spotted the original head rolled away to the side of the road, partially shrouded by the brush.

Expressions of varying levels of distaste passed upon the faces of the others in the company, but they quickly moved onto other business. Heralds called out to the woods that the King of Gondor was coming to take back his land, but the area about them remained silent. After the calls they prepared to halt for the night, and as tents were erected and the horses tethered men set to placing the stone king's head on top of the statue.

As the head was settled back where it belonged and soldiers began to wash and pare away the scratches on the figure, Jack watched with mild fascination. "You know," he said to no one in particular, "it might be better to save the statue-cleaning for _after_ the war is won."

"Call it poetic justice," said Elizabeth as she came up from behind him. "Besides, it allows them to keep their minds off of the battle ahead."

"And the death we're all likely to suffer, yes," he added noncommittally.

"That's the spirit," she replied dryly, shook her head, and left him alone.

Later that night, the captains of the army and the remainder of the Fellowship sat about a fire eating a plain, but wholesome meal. They avoided speech about the days to come and rather spoke about lighter things.

"And so she rushed through the crowd and up the stairs before I could even respond," said Will. "She was quite ready to tear the evil-looking Strider apart."

"And she would have, mate," Jack nodded in Aragorn's direction. "Anamaria was quite ready to do so at any time until we were attacked by the Ringwraiths."

"That, I believe," laughed Elrohir. "She is a fierce woman."

"Oh, don't worry, Lord Imrahil, she relaxed once she realized he wasn't out to kill us," Pippin explained to Imrahil, who seemed quite unsure how to take the story. "But you wouldn't have trusted him, either, if you met him as we did in Bree."

"He speaks the truth," Elladan agreed, smiling at the hobbit before continuing. "Aragorn can look very much like a vagabond when he wishes, and when his cousin is with him he's only worse."

"I must protest, my lord," Halbarad argued. "Strider always had a greater reputation than I did in Bree. Besides, I was not there for this incident, though having met the lady Anamaria, I rue that I was not there to see it."

"'Strider' is an odd name, my lord Elessar," said Imrahil to Aragorn. Will, who was in the middle of chewing a bite of his meal, began to cough.

"It was one granted to me by the citizens of Bree," Aragorn explained, "though in the high tongue it shall not sound so ill, and 'Telcontar' I will be called-" Will, who had only just managed to catch his breath, started coughing once more, this time more violently, and the man turned to him in concern. "Are you well?"

The young man managed to catch his breath after a moment and swallowed some water before speaking. "What is it with you and your names?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have so many of them! Where in the world do they all come from? Do you really need not only one, but _two_ new ones?"

"'Elessar' is not new," Elizabeth said before Aragorn could respond. "I remember Galadriel calling him that."

Jack stared at her. "How on earth do you remember that?"

"It was only a month ago, no matter how long it feels like," she argued.

"As it is," Aragorn said, "'Telcontar' is not new but rather a translation of 'Strider' in Quenya."

"And 'Elessar' merely means 'Elfstone' in the same language," Elrohir added.

"Different languages or not, they're still different names used by different people," Will argued. "And you have a ridiculous number of them."

"You tend to accumulate names when one is as well-traveled as Aragorn," said Gandalf, the hint of a glint in his eyes.

"You would speak in Aragorn's favor, Mithrandir," Legolas noted with a smile.

"But that's only one more name," said Will, "not ten."

"Oh, I have many more than that," replied the wizard.

"If I had known you had already gathered so many aliases, Aragorn, I shouldn't have given you another when we first met!" Éomer laughed.

"Ah, enough on names, Aragorn is beginning to look annoyed," Gimli chuckled good-naturedly. "I was wondering where you had put that brooch of yours, actually, the so-called Elfstone. I haven't seen you without it since you received it. It is well-made and I missed it."

"Dwarves and their stones," Legolas bantered.

"Elves and their trees," Gimli replied easily.

Aragorn smiled at the two before replying, "I left it in Minas Tirith, in Lord Faramir's safekeeping. If I fail to return, I know he will do all in his power to see it returned to the elves and its original owner. As for why I left it behind, I want the Elessar to represent peace and healing to my people rather than war, and so I will not wear it anymore when I ride to battle. And I already have my own representation of hope," and here he lightly touched the chain that held the Evenstar, hidden under his clothing.

Elizabeth smiled knowingly before adding, "Besides, it didn't match his new clothing." The others stared at her. "Well, it didn't!"

Imrahil only smiled and then turned to Aragorn. "Well, my lord, your coming to Gondor brings hope to every Gondorian here. By the will of the Valar we will see victory and the White Tree in bloom once more."

Will frowned. "The White Tree? Do you mean the one in the middle of the Citadel?"

"Yes. It withered and died over 150 years ago, though it is believed that it will bloom again once the King returned."

"But it was blooming when we left."

Several pairs of eyes stared at him. "You are sure of this?" asked Gandalf.

"Yes. I noticed it the day after the battle ended; it was only a couple of flowers on one branch, but they were very much there."

After a brief moment of silence, Imrahil spoke once more. "Then perhaps there is indeed hope that we shall succeed in this hopeless venture and Gondor shall see the King again."

O0O0O0O

A pair of stormy grey eyes stared out to the East, his thoughts not on the dark clouds that covered the sky, nor even on the army that now walked under them, but rather on the objects in his hands and the man they once belonged to. His saw not the mountains that bordered Mordor, but a man who fell under its shadow.

Faramir glanced down and lightly traced the stitches that created the emblem of the White Tree on both pairs of vambraces. They were made out of sturdy leather, supple and fitter for traveling than metal gear. It is why Boromir wore them when he set out.

Boromir. His brow crinkled as he thought of him. He never thought he would see more of his brother beyond his broken horn after the boat bearing his body passed beyond mortal sight and out to the Sea. But the evening before the day of departure, the lord Aragorn- the heir of Isildur- left in the Steward's keeping the Elfstone, and then gave him the vambraces. "I kept them in honor of his memory, for a time," Aragorn had said, "and now I give them to you, for you are his brother and I believe he would want you to have them. He spoke highly of you."

The man slightly smiled as he recalled the king's words. Yes, Boromir thought very highly of him, and his feelings were mutual. Boromir was a strong soldier, an inspiring commander, a dear friend, and a loving brother. He should have returned to Gondor. He should have lived.

'_But no_,' Faramir thought. '_Boromir died defending the lives of others._' So Aragorn had told him before he left. '_And so he redeemed himself; I will not make less of his sacrifice by wishing for what cannot be._'

His thoughts were broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, and he turned to see his cousin Amrothos drawing near. The younger man nodded in greeting and joined him upon the bench. He looked questioningly at the vambraces.

"They were Boromir's," said Faramir to the unspoken question. "Lord Aragorn gave them to me before he departed."

The other nodded. "The lord Aragorn knew Boromir?"

"They traveled together from Rivendell; if you recall, Boromir was headed there when he departed last summer."

"I remember your letter, yes." They were silent for a moment; Faramir traced the pattern of the vambraces with his eyes as the other stared out East, brow furrowed as he went into his own thoughts. He glanced at the older man, slight concern on his face. "Should you be out of bed already? You were dying but a week ago."

"The king healed me," the steward replied. "I am very much on the road to recovery and shall be out of here soon enough. Sooner than you, perhaps."

"Don't be too sure; my wound was less dire than yours and the king spared a moment for me as well before he left," said Amrothos with a slight smile. He glanced back to the East, a look of wonder on his face. "I can still scarcely believe it: the king returned! I never thought to see it in my lifetime and certainly never with such companions as he has."

Faramir smiled. "It was strange to see the elves and the dwarf with him, but he inspires such followers."

"Those were not the companions I was thinking about."

"Ah. I have seen little of the lady Anamaria and only spoke with the lady Elizabeth once; I only know the others by sight." Faramir glanced at the vambraces one last time before setting them aside. "I have seen you spending much time with Lady Anamaria. Have you learned anything more about our new king or his companions? The hobbit Merry I have spoken with, and while he is quite glad to speak about his home in the Shire, he has said little on his companions, other than to give them praise- for which I am sure they deserve."

"I have learned a little about her," Amrothos began slowly. "The lord Aragorn told my father she was neither from Khand nor Harad, and I doubt she hails from Rhûn, either; she does not look like an Easterling, nor speak like one. I also know her home is on the sea, though she speaks of it as if it were gone. She also is knowledgeable about boats, and calls her companion Jack her 'captain'; he once referred to her as his 'first mate'."

"Then it is no wonder you two speak together for such lengths, for your love of the sea is legendary." Amrothos rolled his eyes, but smiled. "What else have you learned?"

"This is but a supposition, but it seems that she has not known the rest of her companions for long. She has known her captain the longest, I would presume, but something he said to me when I first met him has stayed in my mind. He spoke a strange speech about friendship and acquaintances that I did not quite catch, but I do remember him mentioning something about meeting someone- one of the elves, I think- but months ago."

"Mere months?" muttered Faramir. "That would be about the time Boromir would have reached Rivendell. I wonder if that is when she and her captain first met Lord Aragorn." He frowned lightly as he thought about it. "Ah, well, we cannot be sure now. The lady Anamaria is strange, but trustworthy."

"She is trustworthy," Amrothos confirmed. "Remember, cousin, she saved my life in battle. I may not be here now were it not for her. And the king trusts her; I imagine he knows her fiery spirit and strong heart." A slight smile came to his face. "She is unlike any lady I have ever seen before; even Lothíriel is not so bold."

A smile came upon Faramir's lips as he looked at the young man. "If I did not know better, I would say that you are beginning to fancy her."

Amrothos blinked and turned abruptly to the other, and Faramir could not read the emotion in his eyes. "Ah, me? No, no, I only speak the truth; she is very bold. It is refreshing, and we speak as friends, and though we have only known each other for days I count her as one. But if we are to speak of holding fancy for a woman, I must enquire about the long hours of conversation you have with the lady Éowyn."

Faramir said nothing for a long period of time, and for a second, Amrothos did not believe he would answer him. Finally the steward said, "When I first met her, I was struck by her beauty and her sorrow, and I pitied her, for no lady should be as touched by the Shadow as she has been. But we have spoken much over the last few days and I found my pity disappearing and in its place come another emotion: affection. Love, mayhap. But the lady does not return it, for it seems she has sealed off her heart."

"If it is meant to be, cousin, it will happen," said the other, "and by the grace of the Valar, we will win this war and live to see those happy days."

O0O0O0O

On the other side of the Houses in another corner of the gardens sat another pair, two who looked completely different and yet shared so many things in common. Éowyn and Anamaria, pale and dark, cold and hot, but both fierce and impatient, took what little comfort they could in each other's presence. Éowyn was dressed in a spare outfit provided by the Houses while Anamaria wore her own clothes, for Brego, and therefore her pack, had been located a few days ago and she felt a good deal more comfortable in them.

"It has been five days since they left, and yet no word has come from them," Éowyn muttered.

"They're alright," said Anamaria, partially to herself. "We'd know if they weren't."

"I should be with them. Or, better yet, I should have died in battle with the king."

"Stop talking like that," said the other. "No, you shouldn't have died. If I had it my way, you- and I- wouldn't be injured either. But I definitely prefer you injured to dead. Besides, your brother would be devastated if he had to deal with not only a dead uncle but a dead sister as well."

"Do you not understand?" said Éowyn. "I have nothing. If they do succeed, I shall go back to the cage that held me, and the man who could help me escape is devoted to another."

"Is that all Aragorn was? A way to escape?"

"No!" she immediately exclaimed. "He is both powerful and kind, and there is little not to admire about him; but I know now that I held infatuation rather than love when we first met. Even so, I would rather have myself grow to truly love him while _with_ him than go back to the way it was."

"Have you talked to your brother about this?"

"Éomer? He does not understand."

"Still-"

"Please, let us rather speak about something else."

Anamaria sighed and let the conversation die. "Alright then. What do you want to talk about?"

A slight smile- the first Anamaria remembered seeing in a long time- graced Éowyn's lips. "You have spent a lot of time with that soldier, the steward's cousin."

"Oh, Amrothos? Well, I saved his neck in battle and he helped me to the City, so that put us on good terms." She shrugged slightly. "He is kind. Then again, basically everyone here is."

"What do you speak about with him?"

"Ah, well, you know, stuff. He's spoken about his family- he's the youngest son in his family, with two older brothers and a younger sister. He also lives by the sea, so we talk a bit about that. And, well, those sorts of things. Nothing special." Anamaria did not like the tone of Éowyn's voice and feared the way this conversation would go, and so turned it another direction. "What about you? You have been spending a lot of time with Faramir."

"Oh." Now it was Éowyn's turn to look casual. "Yes, he said he wished to spend time with me while there was still time left."

She grinned. "He fancies you, then."

The young woman made a disbelieving sound. "Pity, more like, as does every man I come across. They seem not to understand that I desire no pity, merely honor."

"You've achieved that pretty handily with that whole Ringwraith kill," Anamaria pointed out.

"Perhaps." She looked uncertain as she spoke. A moment of silence fell between them before the Rohir spoke again. "Do you really believe he fancies me?"

"A man like him doesn't ask just any lady for long talks," she replied. "And if he's half as decent as his brother, he's a good man. Good men are in large supply here, it seems." She paused for a moment as she thought about the lack of such people in the Caribbean. "Keep on talking with him. Give him a chance. If he respects you for who you are, he will let you be yourself. Get to know him some more, and if it works, it works. If not..." She shrugged. "There are plenty of fish in the sea."

Éowyn nodded. "I believe I know what you mean, though in Rohan we say rather that 'there are more horses in the fields'. Very well, then, I shall take your advice. He is certainly kind and honorable. Perhaps..." she trailed off and became silent for a moment before sending a short smile to her companion. "Be sure to follow your own advice, my friend."

Anamaria only rolled her eyes and they fell again into a comfortable silence as they turned once more to the East, their thoughts falling to their friends.

O0O0O0O

It was morning when they came to the Black Gate. The night before they rested a couple leagues from the entrance, but little actual rest was gained, being so close to the Black Land's entrance. Even so, none accosted them and their heralds remained unchallenged.

The mood surrounding the army was grim as they stopped half a mile before the great gate. The battlement seemed empty and the area around them was silent. When no response was sent forth to their challenge, they had no choice but to play their part to its end. With the army gathered together upon the slopes before the Morannon, the Captains of the West, alongside the remains of the Fellowship and a guard of horsemen, rode closer until they were within earshot of the gate.

"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth!" shouted Aragorn, "Let justice be done upon him!"

There was a long silence to his proclamation, and no cry was given in answer. Just as they were about to turn away, the silence was broken. There came a long rolling of great drums and a braying of horns, and the Morannon was opened. Out came but a single horseman, and a rolling, dark dust obscured the lands beyond the entrance so they could not see beyond the gate. He was robed in all black and donned a black helm that was covered in cruel runes that spoke of dark things. He was no Ringwraith, but a living man, a Black Númenórean who was high in the Dark Lord's favor. His bearing was confident, as if he knew his enemy's designs and their hopelessness.

He stopped a few paces away from the Captains of the West before saying, "I am the Mouth of Sauron. My master, Lord Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome." He smiled as he glanced upon all of them, laughing as he looked at each Captain. "Is there anyone in this rout with authority to treat with me? Or indeed the wit to understand me? Not thou at the least!" he exclaimed as he turned to Aragorn with scorn. "It takes more to make a king than a re-forged blade, or a rabble such as this. Any brigand of the hills can show as good a following!"

Several of them flared in anger, and Will put a hand on his own sword, but Aragorn said nothing; rather he took the other's eye and held it, and for a moment they strove in an unseen battle. Even though Aragorn did not stir nor move his hand to a weapon, the other quailed as if menaced with a blow. Jack glanced at his friend in silent approval.

Before the other could speak again, Gandalf said, "We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed."

"So!" the Mouth of Sauron replied. "Thou art the spokesman, old greybeard? Have we not heard of thee at whiles, and of thy wanderings, ever hatching plots and mischief at a safe distance? But this time thou hast stuck out thy nose too far, Master Gandalf, and thou shalt see what comes to him who sets his foolish webs before the feet of Sauron the Great. I have tokens I was bidden to show thee."

He suddenly revealed, hidden in a black bundle before him, three tokens: first he showed Sam's short sword, and then a grey cloak with an elven-brooch, as several of the Fellowship members still wore, and lastly he held up Frodo's coat of mithril-mail. A blackness came over their eyes, and Elizabeth quickly reached for her husband's hand and grasped it, cutting back the yell that wanted to escape her lips. Pippin was not completely able to conceal his despair and cried in grief. Will put his other hand upon the hobbit's shoulder to silence him, though he was unable to hide his own sorrow from his features.

Sauron's messenger laughed. "What use you find in these imps I cannot guess, and to send them as spies to Mordor is beyond even your accustomed folly. Still, I thank him, for it is plain that this brat at least has seen these tokens before, and it would be vain for you to deny them now."

"I do not wish to deny them," said Gandalf. "Indeed, I know them all and their history, and despite your scorn you cannot say as much. But why do you bring them here?"

"Dwarf-coat, elf-cloak, blade of the downfallen West, and spy from the little rat-land of the Shire- nay, do not start! We know it well- here are the marks of a conspiracy. Now, maybe he that bore these things was a creature that you would not grieve to lose, and maybe otherwise; one dear to you, perhaps? If so, take swift counsel with what little wit is left to you. For Sauron does not love spies, and what his fate shall be depends now on your choice."

He received no answer, but their horrified looks that they were not completely able to conceal spoke lengths that no words could, and he laughed once more. "He was dear to you, I see. Or else his errand was one that you did not wish to fail? It has. And know that he will suffer greatly at the hands of his host, and will endure the slow torment of years, as long and slow as our arts can contrive, unless you accept my Lord's terms."

"Name the terms," said Gandalf, and while his voice was steady, his face was grey and weary, crushed and defeated.

The messenger smiled. "The rabble of Gondor and its deluded allies shall withdraw at once beyond the Anduin, first taking oaths never again to assail Sauron the Great in arms, open or secret. All lands east of the Anduin shall be Sauron's forever, solely. West of the Anduin as far as the Misty Mountains and the Gap of Rohan shall be tributary to Mordor, and men there shall bear no weapons, but shall have leave to govern their own affairs."

Jack glanced at the wizard emotionlessly; he was no native of these lands, but any fool could see that this whole engagement was a farce and even he knew enough not to trust Sauron or anyone working under him. His eyes moved to the Mouth of Sauron once more and he held back the scowl that wanted to form; oh, he would enjoy seeing that mocking smile wiped off his face.

Gandalf kept his tone emotionless as he replied, "This is much to demand for the delivery of one servant: that your Master should receive in exchange what he must else fight many a war to gain! Or has the field of Gondor destroyed his hope in war, so that he falls to haggling? And if indeed we rated this prisoner so high, what surety have we that Sauron, the Master of Treachery, will keep his part? Where is this prisoner? Let him be brought forth and yielded to us, and then we will consider these demands."

The other laughed once more. "Surety you crave! Sauron gives none. If you sue for his clemency you must first do his bidding. These are his terms. Take them or leave them!"

"These we will take!" said Gandalf, and he raised his hand, and from it a bright white light shone. The Mouth of Sauron recoiled and Gandalf rode forward and took the cloak, coat, and sword from him. "These we will take in memory of our friend, but as for your terms we reject them utterly. Begone!"

The messenger's face was twisted in anger and his eyes sparked in rage. Before he could say anything or make another move, however, a great burst of sound broke throughout the area. The others startled, but their eyes were turned forward as the Mouth of Sauron fell from his steed, dead. Sitting calmly, smoke emitting from his weapon, was Jack, gun still pointed at his target.

For a brief moment there was silence. Jack glanced to his left at his companions and took in their shocked glances with a roll of the eyes. "You cannot honestly say you did not expect me to do that. Besides, he never did say 'parley'."

Before any sort of debate could be raised about killing the emissary, the Enemy seemed to recover from his own shock over this less-than-valiant act done by his otherwise noble-to-a-fault foes, and the Morannon was opened. Numbers upon numbers of orcs began to pour out of it.

"Fall back!" called Aragorn, and so they did, quickly turning around their steeds and heading back to the main host. While the orcs were not slow in approaching, for they were eager for bloodshed, the horses were much faster and they were able to make it to their own army before becoming surrounded.

Enemies came not only from the Morannon, but they now saw that several thousands were hidden in the hills surrounding the gate, and from above the Nazgûl swooped and shrieked, their fell miasma sending the hopeless soldiers into an even deeper despair. Forces greater than ten times their number moved to surround them, and all of their hope was quenched.

Aragorn, still seated upon Roheryn, glanced at his companions one by one. Their eyes met his and he gave them a brief, grim smile. "For Frodo," he said.

And then the two armies clashed.

O0O0O0O

"Steady, Inwer," Elizabeth muttered to her horse as she gripped one hand with the reins and the other her borrowed Rohirric sword. She did not completely trust herself with a bow on a horse, and certainly not on such a crowded battlefield. The chances of hitting an ally were too great.

Will, Pippin still sitting in front of him, had long ago positioned Wistan in front of Elizabeth from the onslaught, but that did little to stem the flow of enemies and keep them from reaching her; there were simply too many. Their horses danced about as the flow continued, the three of them killing any orcs that came near them. The woman was sure that it was the horse's skill rather than hers that kept her alive and still seated.

About a minute into the battle, a great Uruk came upon Will and Pippin from behind. Before Elizabeth could shout a warning to her husband, the beast lifted his scimitar for the kill. Just as it was about to let the weapon fall, an arrow went straight through his neck, killing him almost instantly. She did not need to see Arod trot past to realize that the arrow belonged to Legolas.

The man nodded his thanks to the elf; the elf shortly nodded in return and shot another arrow through another orc. If he and Gimli were counting their kills as they did in the last two battles, they were not doing it aloud. Such a game would be too jolly even for them, seeing as they were all likely about to die rather soon.

The orcs quickly figured out that they could reach those on the horses easier with spears and arrows rather than swords, and it was not long before the archers began to aim for them. Will cursed as an arrow shot past his head and began to back away from the approaching spearmen, calling to his wife to back up with him.

But it was too late. A group of Easterling spearmen broke their way easily through the rabble of orcs and to the horsemen, their jagged weapons aimed at both rider and steed. One bold Easterling, spotting Will, aimed and threw his spear at him.

It missed, but only just. The young man saw the spear as it flew and jerked on the reins to avoid it. The weapon landed just in front of the horse, and, startled, Wistan reared, nearly throwing his master off. While Will was able to keep to the saddle, Pippin was completely surprised by the maneuver and he lost his balance. With a startled cry, the hobbit fell.

"Pippin!" he shouted, but he could not seek out his friend for the spearmen were now there. He threw himself back in the saddle to evade one, and kicked out angrily at the spear's bearer before quickly decapitating him. A couple of orcs that had yet to figure out that the men on foot would be easier to battle than those on horses came by, and between he and the horse they were soon killed. By the time the man had a chance to look for Pippin, he was nowhere in sight.

He spotted his wife but fifteen feet away and quickly made his way to her. Elizabeth had, to his great relief, managed to stay on her horse and remain unharmed. The young man struck an Easterling coming upon the woman from behind before she noticed him.

"Where's Pippin?" was her frantic greeting as she kicked away an orc. Her foot connected to his chin and he fell to the ground, where he was swiftly trampled by the movement of battle.

"I do not know!" Will confessed, battling away a pike for a brief moment before slaying its bearer. "Wistan reared and he fell and disappeared."

"Disappeared!" she screamed disbelievingly, shoving her sword straight through the neck of an Uruk. "Go find him!"

"I am not leaving you!" he argued, killing one or two orcs in between words. "And I could never find him in this mess." Another dead Easterling. Before she was given a chance to respond, Will spotted a splash of blue in the sea of black and red: it was Imrahil and a select few of his knights. As he took in the Prince of Dol Amroth's presence, he suddenly saw one of the Uruk archers aim for him. "Imrahil, behind you!" he cried.

Before the Uruk could release the arrow, a rider suddenly came and flew by the archer. The bow and arrow fell and a head went flying through the air, falling a few feet away from the body. One of the sons of Elrond- Elladan, he presumed, he recalled that he tended to use a sword- glanced briefly at Imrahil before riding off and disappearing into the crowd.

"Good to see some friends," Elizabeth yelled over the din. "Let's go to Imrahil, the orcs are beginning to spread us out." Will only nodded and followed her lead over to the Prince, darkly wondering how much longer this was going to last before they perished.

O0O0O0O

Pippin was not quite sure how he managed to survive the fall and avoid being trampled by anything, but he assumed his size helped at least a little. It certainly did seem useful in being completely unnoticed by the enemies surrounding him, making the rather morbid task of killing at least a little easier.

Oh, what he would give to be able not to have to kill again. He supposed today would be the last time he had to kill, seeing as everyone around him was quite sure that none of them were making it out of this battle alive- not after seeing Frodo's and Sam's things. Last time or not, it was little comfort to Pippin. He did not want to die.

Seeing as he was the shortest person on the battlefield, he soon gave up attempting to find any of his friends. It was to his surprise, then, when he suddenly came upon the great standard of the King of Gondor and its bearer. "Halbarad!" he called.

The man looked about in surprise and spotted Pippin. "Master Hobbit!" He kicked back an orc and another Ranger slew it. "Weren't you with Will?"

"I was, but I fell off his horse," he confessed, after killing an approaching orc that did not even notice him.

"Come, then!" The Dúnadan swiftly rode over to him and with one move hoisted the hobbit in front of him. "I wouldn't want you trampled."

"Thanks." He paused as another rabble of enemies rushed at their small group, focusing his attention on defending his own life. "Where's Strider?" he suddenly asked a moment later as he realized he was not there.

Something like a growl came from the man's lips. "We were separated during the second wave of the onslaught. Some Dúnedain remain with him, but we have yet to see them again."

"He'll be all right," Pippin tried to reassure the man. Halbarad said nothing, and they continued to kill all enemies that crossed their path. The hobbit winced as he heard the sound of a dying man nearby, and tried to ignore it and focus on the creatures in front of him who were still trying to kill him and the Ranger.

"Keep an eye out for Aragorn, if you can," the man behind him said. Pippin nodded and, after stabbing an orc through the neck, quickly scanned the battlefield, searching south and west before looking the other way to the east and north. It was the north, however, that made him pause. Squinting, he glanced into the distance at the shapes in the sky, and it was not much later when he recognized the shapes for what they were.

"Eagles," he muttered in awe.

"What?" asked Halbarad.

"Eagles! The eagles are coming!"

Soon enough the call was repeated throughout the battlefield, and even as the servants of the Enemy looked into the sky in surprise and terror, several great eagles swooped down from the clouds and onto the battlefield. Pippin's attention was taken away from the large birds as a closer, more distressing call came from Halbarad's lips.

"Trolls! Battle trolls approach!"

O0O0O0O

Jack was not quite sure how it happened. The battle began quicker than even he had anticipated, and not that far into it he found himself near no one he knew with only one exception.

And the only familiar face nearby simply had to be Gandalf. It was just his luck.

'_At least the old man can fight_,' flew quickly by in his mind as he spotted the wizard decapitating two orcs with one stroke. _'Though he would be a bit more useful if he lived up to his title and used a bit more magic._' The wizard suddenly looked up, and a strange look was on his face. Now, hopefulness in itself was not that odd, of course, but hope in a battle that they were very likely going to lose was outright ridiculous.

A shrill caw broke through the noise of battle, and a call began to rise among the soldiers of the West. "The eagles are coming!"

"Eagles?" he could not help but mutter to himself after dispatching a large Uruk. "What good are eagles?" He spared a glance up and whistled softly to himself. "Ah. Big eagles."

Jack blinked and returned his focus back to the battle at hand. A couple of Easterlings tried to get under his defenses while he was distracted by the newcomers, but he kicked one of the men away while Nithhad bit at the other.

"Good horse," he muttered absentmindedly, his attention again removed to another sight. "Keep them away from me for a few seconds more, love, we've got trouble." He thought he heard Nithhad neigh in response, but it could have been the sound of a dying orc. The captain did not bother to try to figure out if the horse had responded and rather focused on reloading his pistol, one eye on Mordor's new line of reinforcements. It looked like Sauron had just released the trolls.

He finished reloading the weapon and sheathed it; the pistol would be useful if a troll decided to wander by his way.

The battle moved on with little change after the arrival of the eagles and trolls but for one small, but alarming fact: they were obviously beginning to falter. Jack stabbed angrily at a nearby Uruk as the realization came home; he _knew_ that he was likely to die here, but he _really_ did not want to. He was tempted to kill the old man for convincing him to come.

But of course, he had disappeared now, too, just when he actually wanted to see him.

His thoughts were broken by a great shadow passing over him. Glancing up, he slightly shuddered as one of the Nazgûl fought with one of the eagles; he could feel their fell miasma even though they were far up in the sky. Even as he eyed them, they suddenly jerked as if struck by something invisible and began flying south. The eagles did not pursue them but rather dove at the orcs, lifting them and dropping them.

Jack was brought back to the battle at hand when the clash of metal and pounding of feet was broken by a great roar, a roar that even halted Nithhad from his battle-frenzied biting and kicking. The trolls were here.

Both friend and foe scattered as a group of three of them approached, but a small collection of warriors planted themselves strategically around the beasts, seemingly quite ready to take them down. It was about a dozen of the Dúnedain, of course. And- Jack sighed- Aragorn was with them. Of course he was. And he was not even on his horse anymore.

Every part of him was screaming at him to flee and find some nice, easy orcs to kill, but the moment Aragorn just barely dodged the huge sword of one of them, Jack found himself riding towards them. He lost all sense of his former self-preservation long ago; there was no need to break the trend now.

He had no idea how smart these beasts were- the only troll he ever encountered was the rather stupid one in Moria- but whether they actually knew that Aragorn was the king or were simply attracted to the red he was wearing, they seemed rather keen on smashing him into a pulp. The Dúnedain were able to keep two of them at bay, but one pursued the heir of Isildur relentlessly. The captain was beyond glad to see that the Ranger seemed to be able to handle the sword-wielding troll well, meeting every strike with one of his own. It would have been a fascinating battle to watch had it not been a battle to the death, or at least his friend in said battle.

As he finally came close enough for a sure shot, the troll finally managed to get under Aragorn's defenses. The beast knocked Andúril out of the man's hands, and as he backed up quickly towards the weapon, the troll brought up a fist and smacked Aragorn aside as if he were as light as a rag doll. The Ranger fell to the ground, stunned, and the troll took a couple of steps and began to lift his great sword.

A loud blast rang through the area, and Aragorn just scrambled out of the way as the troll fell to the ground. He swiftly pulled himself up, elven knife and Andúril in his hands, and turned around to see Jack, about four feet away, sitting smugly on his horse.

"That is, what, the third time I've saved your life? Fourth? I'm beginning to lose count."

Aragorn said nothing, but brought up his knife and sent it flying past Jack's face into the face of an Uruk that was quite ready to gut the captain. The man glanced at it for half a second before saying, "You still owe me two or three more."

If the king heard him, he did not reply. The Dúnedain- now most of them, including Halbarad- reformed around Aragorn and prepared for another onslaught, for the battle was far from over. The enemy still outnumbered them greatly and they were slowly losing their strength. No matter how great their willpower and courage, they simply had not the numbers to defeat Mordor.

But then suddenly a hush appeared to fall upon the whole area. It lasted for not even a second and yet it seemed to slow time to a crawl. The armies of Mordor wavered and stilled and the Men of the West looked up in wonder towards the south, towards Barad-dûr and Mount Doom. Time suddenly started again, and the earth groaned and shook beneath their feet. Suddenly the earth around the Black Gate began to break, and the Morannon fell and crumbled into ruin. In the distance, Orodruin exploded and the tower of Sauron himself swayed and collapsed, an unseen force completely destroying its very foundations. The orcs, Uruk-hai, and trolls began to scatter in fear.

Somehow, beyond all hope, the Ring was destroyed and Sauron forever gone.

O0O0O0O

She did not know where Merry and Éowyn were, and she had no particular desire to ask a servant to find them. The woman found it incredibly irritating that she could not even come outdoors without aid, and so she opted to sit alone for a while until the aids all-but-carried her back inside. Her mood was often low these past days, and now it was as dark as the clouds that constantly hung over Mordor, the same clouds that held her gaze for a time beyond her reckoning. A chill wind from the North came early that day and remained consistent throughout it, making her shiver. Anamaria brought her cloak closer to her, cursing the cold breeze but unwilling to go inside, with or without help.

"Are you cold, Lady Anamaria?"

She answered the question with a half-shrug, not bothering to turn around to acknowledge the speaker. "I'm pretty sure I've told you not to call me 'lady', Lord Amrothos. I'm far from any sort of ladylike status."

"Then call me also by my name only." She felt him sit down beside her. "I would argue that you are indeed a lady, Anamaria."

She snorted. "I am no noble. Elizabeth is the lady."

"Nobility is marked not only by heritage, but also by actions," the young man retorted. "And your actions have been most noble."

To that she had no reply, and so turned her mind again to the East. "Something is going to happen today. I can feel it."

"We have received no word from them, but if they encountered no trouble they should be at the Black Gate today. They may already be there," Amrothos said. "Today the doom of Gondor shall be decided."

"And the whole world," she added. To that he said nothing, and they remained silent for a moment. A great gust of wind suddenly blew throughout the area, and the woman involuntarily shivered; she was still more used to the warm weather of the Caribbean and disliked the cold.

"You are cold. You should go inside."

The woman shook her head. "No. Not when my friends are out there." She glared at her leg for a second before turning again to the East. "And no, I don't need your cloak," she said without sparing him a glance. He opened his mouth and shut it without a word, reluctantly removing his hand from his brooch. They fell once again into silence, and soon the young man found his gaze wandering to the other side of the garden. There he spotted two figures together, a sight that made him smile.

"Look," he muttered, nodding to the two others. Anamaria glanced that way and she allowed her grim countenance to fall for a moment. Éowyn was leaning comfortably against Faramir, her hand entwined with his; she was glad to see that her friend had warmed up to him.

"That's good for her," she said, mostly to herself.

"And him," said Amrothos. "He has lost much these past weeks."

She nodded, but her mind was not anywhere near the Houses at that time. Indeed, she could see a change in the black clouds that surrounded Mordor; they seemed to be moving about in some sort of turbulence that she had not ever seen in her time watching the dark mountains throughout the last several days. They seemed to swirl about, forming a great spiral moving towards the land of Mordor, and suddenly a tremor shook the ground and she inadvertently grasped upon Amrothos for support. When the earthquake ceased, she let go of him with a quick apology.

"No apology is needed," he waved with a smile. The expression caused her heart to jump once, though why, she did not understand. "The shake was strange. I haven't felt such a thing in many a long year."

"It's been a while for me, too," she said, "and that caught me by surprise. Something is definitely happening." She turned her eyes back out to the East and found that the storm clouds were no longer swirling about haphazardly. If they were moving at all, it was slowly and peacefully outwards, slowly dispelling as they drifted.

"I know not why," said Amrothos suddenly, "but I feel... lighthearted. My heart is singing, but I dare not hope for the best."

"The wind seems to have died down and the dark clouds look... normal," she added. "Perhaps... but that makes no sense. Sauron doesn't have that far of an impact, does he?"

"Those that live here may argue that he does," was Amrothos' only statement.

She made to retort, but suddenly she spotted a shape flying towards the City from the northeast. At first, she thought it was one of the Nazgûl, but the fell air they carried about them did not begin to seep into her mind, and the creature looked a little bit different from a Nazgûl's fell beast.

"That looks like some sort of big bird," she muttered disbelievingly.

Her companion squinted. "It is an eagle!" Eyes wide, Anamaria watched as the bird approached and began to hover above the city, her head titled up to see his every move. The creature's great wings seemed to create a wind of their own, and his eyes were keen and farseeing.

And then it began to sing.

She blinked. "Is that bird... singing?" A pause. "I don't even know why I'm surprised anymore."

O0O0O0O

Even as the last of the evil Men that once served Sauron fled, surrendered, or fought to their deaths, a sudden realization came upon the members of the Fellowship, halting their happy thoughts.

Frodo and Sam were still out there.


	41. Recovery

Chapter 41: Recovery

A quiet afternoon surrounded the Houses of Healing. The soft song of a sparrow fluttered through the open windows of the building, but Elizabeth barely noticed it as she sat in an empty chair on the side of the room. Rather her focus was on the other side of the room, on repetitive motions of the bandage going around- and around- and around. Even then, though her gaze was unwavering, her mind was in her memories.

She would never forget the aftermath of the fall of Sauron. The soldiers of Rohan and Gondor about her were in shock, and a few were even weeping. Enough kept their heads to see that not all of their enemies would surrender and took care of them quickly. It was Gandalf, however, who swiftly caught the attention of nearly everyone in the vicinity.

She was astounded to see him jump upon an eagle and could not imagine where he was headed. It was later that the young woman kicked herself for not seeing the obvious, but at that time, she had no hope for Frodo or Sam's survival.

Seeing the eagles a little less than an hour later bringing both of them, and alive, seemed to stun nearly everyone.

Elizabeth was not there when Aragorn tended them, day and night, for she knew she would only be in the way. When they were deemed stable enough to move, they were loaded into the wagons along with the rest of the seriously wounded, and the majority of the army headed back to the City. Throughout the whole period, both hobbits remained unconscious.

How long had it been?

"Over a week, now," replied the man re-bandaging the small hand in his own.

She blinked. "I- I'm sorry, Aragorn, I did not realize I spoke that aloud."

"Be not worried; you did not disturb them. They will not wake until they are ready."

"What do you mean?"

"I put them in a healing sleep as soon as I knew they would not die," he explained. "They will not wake until I guide them back."

"Oh. I did not know you could do that." Her eyes darted from Frodo to Sam, and, not quite able to disguise her worry, asked, "You are sure they will recover?"

"In body, yes," said Aragorn. "It is difficult to say if either of them will heal inside, especially Frodo. He has suffered much."

She only nodded; his suffering, from the deep welt of a chain on his neck to his missing finger, was clear. And she remembered the Ring's whispers; she could not imagine living with such a presence as long as Frodo did.

She was not the only one concerned about these two. Indeed, if Merry and Pippin were not on guard duty, they would be right here, sitting with them as they almost always did. All members of the Fellowship spent at least some time with the malnourished hobbits; even the usually stoic Jack Sparrow was found in the healing room from time to time, a crutch-bound Anamaria often by his side.

Aragorn finished applying the new bandage on Frodo's hand and checked over both hobbits one last time before he was satisfied that he had done all he could for them, at least for the time being.

The young woman glanced surreptitiously at him as he stood. "You look tired. Have you been sleeping enough?"

He smiled. "I have never slept better, knowing that the Dark Lord shall never trouble us again."

"I can scarcely believe it, myself," she admitted. "It really is a miracle." She glanced at the two figures in the beds that seemed to swallow them whole, so thin they were. "All thanks to them, too." She glanced back at him. "And you, and Gandalf, and all the others, too. But… they really seemed to manage the unachievable."

The man nodded in agreement. "Middle-earth owes greatly to both of them for their sacrifice." He watched them silently for a moment, his face unreadable, before turning to her. "You must excuse me, I must see to the other patients here; many were wounded in the fighting in the last couple of weeks."

"Of course. If you bump into Anamaria, check her leg, please. I'm sure she's using it too much, no matter what she thinks. And if you see Will, tell him I'm here, would you?"

"I shall." He nodded his head in greeting and then departed, sparing one last glance for the two small figures lying in the room.

It was not long before Elizabeth was broken out of her silent reverie by a hand on her shoulder. Glancing up, she saw it was her husband behind her, a solemn look on his face as he watched the two figures on the bed. He was silent for a moment before finally saying, "Come, dear. It is nearly suppertime. There is nothing we can do for them."

She said nothing as she nodded and stood, her face carefully blank as her eyes met her husband's. He seemed to read through her facade, but she ignored his unspoken question and left the room, unable to spare her two small friends a second glance.

O0O0O0O

The room was completely still. Merry had to remind himself to breathe as Aragorn checked on his cousin and friend. Beside him, he heard Pippin shift nervously as they waited for the news concerning them. They seemed to be recovering, he had said in the days before, but even so, healing was such tricky business and so much could go wrong, especially after all they had been through…

After a moment, Aragorn opened his eyes and lifted his hand from Frodo's forehead, a soft smile on his face. "He is nearly healed. I deem he will be ready to awaken tomorrow." A collective sigh of relief and joy went throughout the room. "And Sam, too, is even closer to waking," said the Dúnadan after only looking at him briefly. "He should wake tomorrow morning, and Frodo will follow him sometime in the afternoon." Large grins split across both Merry and Pippin's faces and the latter clutched the other. His joy was contagious and soon everyone was smiling or laughing.

As they began to exit the healing room, Aragorn halted Anamaria with a word before she could prepare her clutches. "Let me see your leg."

"You just checked it two days ago!" Merry heard the woman complain as he exited the room, his cousin following him. He did not hear Aragorn's response as he wandered away from the room and the others, and soon he and Pippin were alone.

"I'm so glad they're waking up tomorrow," said Merry. "I hope they will be fully healed soon." He was careful to leave out any doubt of their full recovery; even if he had some doubts, Pippin did not have to know them. Soldier of Gondor or not, he was still a tween.

"Yea," replied the other. "They will." If he had any uncertainties, he did not say anything about them.

They slowly walked about the gardens of the Houses of Healing in silence, Pippin staring thoughtfully at his feet as they strolled. Merry inspected him, a soft frown on his features. "Is there something the matter, Pip?"

"Huh?" he asked. "Oh, well, not really. Nothing about me, at the least."

"Then what is it?"

He paused. "It's Anamaria."

The other blinked. "What? What's wrong with Anamaria?"

"I don't know. It could be nothing, but she's been acting, well, strange."

"What do you mean? I haven't seen anything strange about her."

"Well, I guess strange is not the right word- I mean, different."

"We've all changed a bit, Pippin, you know that."

"That's not what I meant," argued the younger. "It's something that just happened. She was mostly the same before I left to go to the Black Gate, but after I came back, she was… different, somehow. I don't know how, but something has changed. What happened while we were gone?"

"I don't know," Merry frowned. "I didn't notice anything. I mean, nothing over those last two weeks. We didn't really do anything. Anamaria wasn't allowed to be standing most of the time, anyways, and the threat of forever having a limp seemed to keep her immobile."

"Well, _something_ happened. And we need to figure it out." Pippin turned to his cousin, complete resolve upon his features. "You need to spy on her."

"_I_ need to _spy_ on her? I don't spy on my friends!"

"Do too," Pippin started, but before Merry could argue, opted to reword his statement. "Watch her, then. You have a reason still to be here more often than I do, and you've spent more time with her than I have, what with being with her in Rohan and here. See if you can discover anything."

"I doubt there is anything to discov-"

"I knew I could count on you!" With a quick grin, Pippin darted off, leaving Merry slack jawed and slightly confused. Blinking, he tried to forget the other hobbit's suspicions, but now that the seed of uncertainty was planted in his mind, he could not let the subject go. Had something happened here that changed Anamaria? His curiosity now stirred, he was sure that he would follow Pippin's request.

When had his younger cousin become so clever and manipulative that it worked against _him_?

Before he could come up with any sort of answer, he heard his name being called from behind him. Turning, he saw King Éomer striding up the path, and the hobbit, remembering his position, smartly saluted.

"At ease," said Éomer with a smile. "I have a request to ask of you, Meriadoc."

"What would you have of me, my lord?"

"Please," said the young king, "I consider you a friend, and I would have you call me Éomer, at least in private."

"Very well, but then call me Merry, for that is how I am known by my friends," answered the hobbit with a smile. "What do you need?"

He paused. "It is my sister," he began.

"Has something happened?" he asked, concern written over his features.

"Well, no, and yes- something has happened, but I don't think it is anything to be concerned about," he replied. "Actually, it's rather the opposite. Recently she has been quite… happy. She seems as if she is genuinely content."

"That is good news," said Merry. "It was terrible seeing her so sad, as she always was, from the time I first met her."

"Yes, it's been many years," said Éomer quietly. "But nonetheless, I do not believe it was the fall of the Dark Lord that caused this change, glad she is, though, of his demise. I think something happened in the days I was gone, days that you were here with her in these Houses. Did you happen to hear or see anything that may have caused it?"

Merry opened his mouth to say 'no', but then remembered Faramir, all the days the two spent together, and Anamaria's soft sniggers whenever she relayed the news to him. Indeed, the whole building seemed to know that there was something going on between the two; he was surprised the King of Rohan had not heard anything about it. In the end, though, it was not for him to tell Éomer.

"I'm not sure," he answered. "I mean, it could be one of a couple of things, but I can't say for certain. Have you tried talking to her?"

"No," he said. "I do not want to inadvertently cause her happiness to go away by mentioning it, just in case if she is unaware of the change and then resorts back to her old moods. I would rather her come to me. I was hoping you could talk to her and encourage her to talk to me. She has grown close to you, unlike any other person in many years, and I do not think she will object to you mentioning it. Would you do that for me?"

Inwardly Merry asked what he had done to deserve this, but outwardly, he gave the king a smile. "Of course. I'll talk to her as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Merry. You have taken a burden off my shoulders." Bidding the hobbit farewell, the young man turned and went back down the path from which he came, leaving the hobbit slightly puzzled.

"What a busy day this has been thus far," he muttered to himself. "I need to find some area of peace and quiet before-"

"Merry!"

He blinked and turned to see Gimli coming up from behind him. "Hello, Gimli."

"Greetings. By chance, have you seen that blasted elf about?"

Merry smiled, partially in relief. He could answer that question easily. "Yes. He was ahead of Pippin and I leaving Frodo's room and was headed towards the gardens facing east, the ones on the wall."

The dwarf sighed deeply. "I was afraid you would say that. Legolas has been going there more recently than not, for along with it being one of the greenest spots in this city, it is also a spot with a clear view on the river which flows to the Sea." He sighed again. "You remember that talk about his sea-longing?" The hobbit nodded. "Well, now that he has nothing else to worry about, I'm afraid he's losing himself and his mind has already sailed, leaving all his friends behind."

"I'm so sorry, Gimli," Merry said sympathetically.

"Don't be sorry yet," said the dwarf. "He hasn't sailed yet, and I haven't given up on him. But I need your help into seeing his mind doesn't fly away like some wayward leaf."

"What do you think I could do?" he asked, completely startled by the request.

"Well, Legolas grew quite fond of you and your kinsmen upon the journey; you were a reminder to him of the few innocent places that still exist in Middle-earth, I think. But he always respected you for being the responsible one, always seeing to your cousins, helping Sam, seeing that all was done. I think you would help remind him why he should stay here."

"Shouldn't someone closer to him, like you or Aragorn, talk to him instead?" Merry half-pleaded. He did not want to talk to Legolas about sea longing; it did not seem like a subject the elf particularly liked to talk about. And he had no idea how he would even talk to him about it.

"No," said Gimli. "If he sees that all his friends, and not just Aragorn and I, are concerned about him and want him to stay, I think it would help convince him. And he's always respected you, as I said, for being so responsible. And even if Aragorn could convince him, he's so busy and Legolas doesn't want him even knowing about it, though I suspect he has his suspicions by now. So, Merry, can you do it?"

Merry exhaled in defeat. "I suppose I shall since you believe it will make a difference, though I don't know what to say to him about it."

"Oh, don't worry, you'll think of something," Gimli reassured him. "You have a way with words. My thanks, master hobbit, for your aid." He slightly bowed and departed.

Merry blinked. "I need to get out of here before I'm asked for anything else." Glancing about him and seeing no one, he silently and hurriedly darted down the path that led away from the Houses, wondering what in the world his friends thought he could do.

O0O0O0O

He stood outside in the hallway where Aragorn made his rounds, his stance relaxed but his senses vigilant. There was certainly little danger to be found in the Houses of Healing, but even then, the curious were becoming more numerous as more people came back to their homes in the City, and the soon-to-be-crowned King had too much work to be delayed by crowds everywhere he went. Halbarad was there to see that, in case something did happen outside of the Houses that caused the many people to come in, he would see the King safely away. So far, it did not seem that anything of the sort would happen, but it did not hurt to be cautious.

While Aragorn was certainly not averse to talking with the people, he had found that if he went out in the open, he was bombarded by questions, requests, and even a few angry demands. The crowds had become so great that Aragorn had come to removing the Elfstone from his cloak and moving with a group of the Dúnedain anonymously whenever he went out, especially when he visited the lower levels. After he was crowned, Halbarad knew that his kinsman would walk out publicly, but for now, Isildur's heir wanted to cause no trouble, for the steward's banner still flew over the Tower of Ecthelion and would continue to do so until everything was ready.

He slightly stiffened as he heard footsteps approach, but slightly relaxed when he saw Jack approaching. Halbarad did not let down his guard completely, however; while Aragorn seemed to trust him completely, and he was rather sure the man would not attempt to hurt him, he was still not sure what to make of the man's strange demeanor.

"Greetings," said the Dúnadan cordially, with a slight nod of the head.

"'ello, mate," he greeted casually, leaning against the wall across from him. "I suppose you heard that Sam woke up this morning, eh?"

Halbarad relaxed more when the dreaded subject that the man usually started with was unmentioned. "Yes, I heard that the hobbit awoke. I have heard that he is well."

"Seems so, though he is rather impatient for Frodo to wake up." Jack's eyes slightly softened as he mentioned him, something that left the Dúnadan momentarily surprised. His gaze was unreadable, however, when the man turned to him again. "But enough about them. What are you doing now, all by your lonesome in these cold halls? Ah, right!" he continued before the other could answer. "You're Aragorn's self-appointed bodyguard. You still trying to make up for your shoddy display in our last battle?"

Any thoughts of remaining polite quickly disappeared with the revival of this old argument. "We have been over this several times, Master Sparrow-"

"_Captain_," he interrupted. "And yes, I remember. You mentioned something about 'just about to throw my spear', but-"

"But your strange weapon is faster than any spear, as I have also mentioned," said Halbarad coolly.

"But that doesn't excuse the fact that you let Aragorn out of your sight," retorted the other with a side-glance. "Not exactly a great trait for any sort of bodyguard."

Halbarad's angry retort was cut off by a third voice. "Let him not bother you, cousin. He is especially renowned for his ability to test a man's patience." Aragorn, newly out of a patient's room, glanced at his kinsman before turning to Jack. "And I would thank you for not bothering Halbarad further, on this subject or any other."

"Is that supposed to be an order?" he asked as he relaxed against the wall, a strange expression on his face.

"A request from one friend to another," replied Aragorn easily.

"A request," he mused for a moment before shrugging. "I suppose I can work with that."

Their conversation was interrupted by loud conversation and the sound of several pounding feet coming from another corridor. At the section where their corridor and the other corridor met, they suddenly saw Anamaria in between Will and Amrothos, her arms around their shoulders and she hopping with her good leg. The three were going as fast as possible, so fast that they did not even see the other three nearby in the other corridor. Trailing behind them was Elizabeth, the other woman's crutches in her arms. She stopped as she spotted the three men and grinned wildly at them. "Frodo is awake!" With that, she kept on following after her friends. Sparing only a glance at each other, they quickly followed her.

They found a great crowd in Frodo's room. Merry and Pippin were on top of Frodo's bed, embracing him and laughing and crying. Sam was right by his side, holding his uninjured hand with both of his. Anamaria, who found a seat on Sam's unoccupied bed, was laughing at Merry and Pippin's antics while Will and Elizabeth stood behind her, their smiles identical. Gandalf's smile was gentle, and Legolas and Gimli emulated him, though both were soon laughing in joy. Aragorn went in before Jack, and when Frodo caught sight of him in his new finery, he smiled and called out to him, and they spoke a few words at his bedside.

Jack watched as Halbarad quietly stood outside of the door to let the Fellowship reunite as one once more, and he gently nodded his head to the doorway, indicating Jack should go in. But the other man hesitated; the last time he saw Frodo, he nearly fell to temptation and took the Ring. He was sure the only reason he did not was because of Galadriel's mirror. Nonetheless, he eventually entered, unnaturally taking the corner and avoiding the spotlight.

Soon enough, Frodo caught his eye. Jack slowly nodded once in acknowledgment, but did nothing else, unsure what the hobbit thought of him. It was to his surprise, then, when Frodo smiled gently and called out to him. "Captain," he beckoned.

Aragorn made way as the other man approached, and Jack knelt by the bedside. "You can call me Jack," he said. "And you, too, Sam," he added to the hobbit on the other side of the bed. Sam only nodded.

"Jack," said Frodo, still smiling. "You are well?"

"Oh, yes, very. And you?"

"I haven't ever been better." He leaned his head in closer. "A great burden has been lifted."

Jack nodded and finally smiled. "Yes. Yes, it has."

* * *

A couple more chapters to go :)


	42. Celebrations

Chapter 42: Celebrations

It was soon announced that the coronation of the new King of Gondor was to be held on the first of May, and word spread quickly throughout the lands. The same eagles that announced the fall of Sauron across Middle-earth also announced the return of the king, and so long before the date was set, people from all over were coming to see this new king.

A day before the coronation, emissaries of all sorts were gathered in houses around the sixth and seventh levels of the City. Groups of representatives from their allies in war, such as Mirkwood, Erebor, and Dale in the North, came to witness the crowning and to reestablish friendships with Gondor and the new king. Small groups of their recent enemies, such as men from Dunland, Harad, and Rhûn, came as peacekeepers and negotiators to come to an agreement to the release of prisoners of war and to seek treaties in the coming era. The last to arrive to Minas Tirith were a pair of scouts from a group of Rivendell and Lórien elves, and they spoke only to the sons of Elrond before departing the City, promising to bring their full company on the day of the coronation.

The Fellowship, having traveled with few supplies, was made clothes for the coronation, and of those from the Caribbean, Elizabeth was the only one ecstatic about it.

"No horrible corsets here!" she said, grinning as she looked down at her emerald green gown. "What do you think, Will?"

"It's beautiful," he admitted, a slight smile gracing his face as he watched his wife. "But I'm not so sure this style is right for me." He glanced down at the tunic, absentmindedly rubbing the material.

"You said the same thing about the clothes you got at Rivendell," she retorted with a laugh. "You got used to those quickly enough. Besides, this is only for a special occasion." She glanced at him appreciatively, and then smiled wickedly. "I am sure you look much better in them than Jack does in his new clothes."

Will echoed her expression. "Let's see how he's doing."

A minute later, the both of them were outside his door, knocking expectantly. They heard a grunt in reply and, taking that as sign that it was all right to enter, opened the door.

"Hello, Jack," said Elizabeth to him. He grunted noncommittally, not bothering to turn around and face them.

"You look… do you need some help with that boot?" Will asked as the other man struggled to put it on.

Jack responded by throwing the stubborn boot over his head, making the young man jump aside to avoid being hit by it. "Nah," the captain replied. "I'll just stick with the boots those elves in Rivendell gave me. Nearly look like my other ones, y'know." He stood up and raised an eyebrow as the two stared at him. "What?"

"You're not wearing your bandana," Elizabeth said.

"Oh." He glanced upward. "Yea."

"I didn't think you ever took it off," said Will.

"'course I do. Have to whenever I wash my hair."

The two stared at him some more. "You- you wash your hair?" Elizabeth managed.

"Yes, 'course I do!" He frowned at them. "Well, every now and then," he added. "Have to dread my new hair- the hair doesn't always dread itself, you know." He grinned, his gold and silver teeth shining.

"And yet you cannot seem to manage to take care of your teeth," the woman said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied innocently.

Will turned his gaze from the dreadlocked hair to his new outfit. "That looks… interesting."

The older man glanced down at his buttoned, royal blue tunic with a shrug. "I'm not fond of this collar, but I've had worse. The gold trimmings are a rather nice touch, I'll admit." He glanced at his sleeve in appreciation before starting to put back on his bandana.

"Wait!" Elizabeth shouted. Jack stopped mid-motion, glancing at her expectantly. "You can't wear that."

"Why?"

"It looks horrible with this outfit."

He frowned. "I can't go out there without it. I feel naked without my bandana. Besides," he added, "if I wear my sash, it'll match."

"Oh, no-" Elizabeth started, but was caught off by an angry yell that came from the room next door. She glanced at the shared wall sympathetically. "It sounds like Anamaria needs some help. Will, you convince him to not wear the sash or the bandana." With that, she left the room.

The young woman knocked softly on the other door. "Anamaria? Are you alright?"

"No."

Elizabeth opened the door slowly and glanced at the other woman sympathetically. "Here, let me get that for you," she said, taking the drawstrings from behind the dress and quickly tying them in place. "There." She walked to the front of the woman and looked her over. "That shade of red looks wonderful on you, Anamaria."

"This thing is bloody uncomfortable." She scratched at her arm, glaring at the sleeve. "If I wasn't Aragorn's friend, I'd wear my old stuff. And I'm still debating it; this dress looks strange on me."

"Nonsense," the other argued. "You look lovely. Besides, I'm sure you'll get used to it, I imagine we both will be wearing dresses like this all the time, now with the War being over."

Anamaria shrugged half-heartedly, looking at herself in the mirror with a deep frown. "Maybe. Now help me get this horrible thing off, I don't want to wear it longer than I have to, and the coronation is still a day away."

Elizabeth smiled and obliged. "If you wish." As she aided the other woman out of the outfit, she asked, "Do you not need the crutches anymore?"

"No; all that's left of those wounds are scars. It hasn't hurt to put pressure on that leg for around a week now." She quickly changed back into her comfortable outfit from Rivendell. "Good thing, too. The coronation is going to be crowded, it looks like."

The other woman nodded. "I imagine so. Anyways, as much as I do love this dress, I want it clean for tomorrow. Come to my room and help me out of it."

Anamaria followed her into the hallway. "Have you ever been to a coronation?"

"No- why?"

"Just wondering what to expect."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I honestly cannot say. If anything, it will be an once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"Definitely."

O0O0O0O

As Anamaria had predicted, the Citadel was filled to the brim with peoples of all sorts. Along with the people of Gondor that managed to be there, all the emissaries of other realms, including the elves of Rivendell and Lórien, were gathered. Close to the entrance of the White Tower, with Faramir, Éomer, and other nobles of Gondor and Rohan, was the part of the Fellowship from the Caribbean. Legolas and Gimli were with their respective peoples, Gandalf was with Aragorn, and the hobbits were nowhere to be seen. They were all in their fine clothing- much to Anamaria's irritation- and, to Elizabeth's annoyance, Jack wore his bandana, hat, and red-and-white striped sash. She settled with merely frowning at him in disapproval, a look he easily ignored.

Their attention was soon turned to the doorway of the White Tower, where Aragorn just kneeled. Gandalf held up a crown with two wings on the side and placed it upon the man's head. "Now come the days of the King," he said. "May they be blessed," he added softly.

Aragorn then stood and faced the crowd. As one the people gathered at the Citadel started applauding him, cheers of joy mingled with the clapping. The king held up his hand for silence. "This day does not belong to one man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world that we may share in the days of peace." Applause followed his speech, Jack nodding in approval over its short length. Then he said, slowly as if chanting it to an unheard tune: "_Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta._"

He walked down the steps of the White Tower and down the aisle made by the guards that kept back the crowd. He spotted the four of them and nodded his head in acknowledgement. Elizabeth made a slight curtsey and Will bowed slightly, while Anamaria simply grinned and Jack tilted his hat in his direction. He also acknowledged Faramir, Éowyn, Imrahil, and Éomer before approaching Gimli, who led the delegation from Erebor. After a couple quick words with Gimli, he went to Legolas, who led the delegation from Mirkwood. Smiling, Aragorn placed a hand on the elf's shoulder, and his friend did the same. "_Le hannon_," was all he said.

Legolas smiled, and then slightly tilted his head to the side, indicating behind him. Aragorn's eyes moved beyond the prince and to the people behind him, where were the delegations of Rivendell and Lórien. His eyes went over the lord and lady of Lothlórien, to Elrond and his sons, until they arrived to a white banner that held the White Tree. And, slowly appearing from behind it, was _her_.

Absentmindedly his hand fell from Legolas' shoulder, the only thing in his sight and mind being Arwen. They approached each other steadily until they were within arm's length of each other. He gently took the banner away from her, distractedly handing it to someone in the crowd. The elf-maiden bowed her head to him, and Aragorn softly lifted her chin until her eyes met his. He gazed deeply into her soulful eyes, lit as brightly as stars, and she into his. Slowly, almost shyly, she smiled.

That was all he needed.

He swiftly took her into his arms and passionately met her lips, she just as fervently meeting his. The world was lost to the both of them as they embraced, their kiss long and as fiery as their love for one another. When they finally parted, he could not fully let go of her, and she did not pull away. When they looked into each other's eyes again, she laughed and embraced him, her arms tightly around him.

Elizabeth smiled gladly as they embraced and clutched her husband's hand. Will responded by pulling her closer and into his arms, a move that she happily permitted.

Aragorn and Arwen, hand in hand, moved throughout the crowd, greeting emissaries and the people of Gondor with polite words. Finally, under the blooming White Tree, they came to the hobbits. Slowly and uncertainly, the four began to bow to the couple.

"My friends," said the king, stopping them midway. He slightly shook his head. "You bow to no one." With that, Aragorn bowed deeply in front of them, and soon the rest of the courtyard were kneeling or bowing to them. Elizabeth and Will smiled and bowed deeply as one, while Anamaria, after a moment's hesitation, quickly bowed to them. Jack, leaning against the wall of the White Tower, tipped his hat in their direction. Frodo caught his eye and nodded slightly. He understood.

Jack Sparrow bowed to no one.

O0O0O0O

The wedding of Aragorn and Arwen was planned to happen a week after his coronation- a fact that disappointed the couple, who were ready to marry right there and then, that fact amusing the majority of their friends.

In the meanwhile, Aragorn began his first duties as King of Gondor after his coronation, namely setting alliances and trading pacts, negotiating with former enemies about prisoners of war and forming treaties, and pronouncing his judgment over various disputes. One of the last cases to be brought before the king was Beregond's case; the punishment for his actions committed usually was death.

Jack attended about a quarter of an hour of one of these court processions before realizing that they were horrible, overly formal matters that reminded him too much of an English court. He also felt a little strange seeing a man he considered a friend in a position that he looked upon with not a little revulsion.

Will and Anamaria also soon found themselves staying away from the Court, rather preferring to be with the others of the Fellowship to explore the City. Arwen often joined them, for she knew she would become queen of these people within a few days and wished to become acquainted with them as much as possible before the wedding. While Elizabeth often was with them, she spent the most time of all of them in the court hearings, finding them 'fascinating'. The only comment she received from her friends about her hobby was a mutter about her being a 'crazy lass' from Captain Sparrow.

Nearly all the Fellowship, however, was there the day Beregond's doom was pronounced, most of them to support Pippin and give him encouragement if his friend was sentenced to death. Even Arwen was there, interested in seeing what her soon-to-be husband would do for this difficult case.

Jack left Pippin with a comforting squeeze, but did not go with them. Rather he headed out to the narrow parapet of the eastern edge of the seventh level. His gaze first started on the mountains that he knew bordered Mordor; now, nearly two months after his downfall, they did not seem to look as menacing. They were still ugly and black, but the sky above it was filled with bright blue sky, making the scene almost beautiful. Granted, he was not one really to speculate about mountains or if they were pretty or not, but it could not be denied that they looked much less threatening than two months ago.

His gaze left the rocky peaks and went to the river, following it south until it disappeared out of sight. Beyond his sight, he knew, there was the sea. How he missed it. If only he had a boat. He wondered how many boats Aragorn's new navy had. A slight smile came to his face; he wondered how much Aragorn would mind if he borrowed one of those boats for a while. Without asking for permission, of course.

He felt more than heard someone behind him, and the man turned to see Galadriel watching him. He nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "Lady."

She approached him and handed him a small, silver pouch. "I had these made for you before we left Lórien. I think, despite the coming peace, they will be of some aid from time to time."

He glanced inside the pouch, his eyes opening in genuine surprise. "More shot."

"Not much," she warned.

"I could always come to you for more," he suggested.

She shook her head. "The elf that made them will soon be leaving Middle-earth, as will I." He said nothing to that, and placed the pouch in one of his several coat pockets. "While Sauron's realm has ended, evil still resides in Middle-earth. May you never encounter that evil, Jack Sparrow, but if you do, you may keep yourself well protected. But you must use them sparingly."

"I kept that pistol on me for ten years without firing a single shot," he said. "I think I can be frugal with these." She nodded, but when she did not answer, he turned his gaze back to the spot where he knew the river turned into an ocean.

"Be patient, Jack Sparrow. You will sail the Sea soon." He side-glanced at her; she was not looking at him, but rather at the water, a slight smile on her face.

Despite her gaze being elsewhere, the man could not help but give her a dry look. "Been reading my mind again?"

"One does not need the ability to look into the mind to see what you desire," she pointed out. She glanced at him, her eyes unreadable.

He only shrugged. "I'm a simple man."

The elf laughed lightly. "I doubt your friends would agree with you." She joined him at the stone wall, following his gaze out to where the ocean lay. "The Sea's call is enveloping, is it not?" He merely nodded. "It is often difficult for an elf to explain to a mortal the call of the Sea, but you are different. The calling of the sea is a part of you. For the elves, the Calling is a call to our home in the Utter West. What is the Sea's calling to you?"

He thought for a moment before speaking. "Home. It has always been my home. My freedom."

"You sailed down the Anduin twice already. How does the water of Middle-earth compare to the waters of your world?"

He slightly smiled. "The river was welcome company to an old sailor's heart. Though," he added, "I want to sail upon clear, open waters once more."

She nodded. "I feel you will be with the Sea once more, with the Lords and Lady of the Waters guiding you." He did not understand what she meant, but the words nonetheless comforted him, though he could not explain why. Smiling, she silently departed, leaving him alone on the parapet.

O0O0O0O

The week thus far was turning out splendidly, in Merry's opinion. First, he was able to talk to Éowyn about talking to her brother, which she did gladly after he assured her that Éomer only wanted to see her happy and would certainly give her his blessing to marry Faramir. Then Aragorn was crowned, which in itself was wonderful to see, though the whole part with the crowd bowing before them was a bit awkward. Just yesterday, Pippin's friend Beregond was granted his life and a promotion as captain of Faramir's guard, which thrilled his cousin quite a bit. And just this morning he was able to catch Legolas and talk to him about Gimli's misgivings, and the elf assured him that he would not leave Middle-earth anytime soon and would talk to the dwarf himself.

Now all he needed to do was see what was bothering Anamaria. He was most curious about this, for now that Pippin had mentioned it, it did seem that she was acting a little bit differently. She did not seem sadder, or angrier, or even happier than usual, just different. He was determined to find out what caused it.

Even if, he admitted to himself ruefully, that meant following her secretly all day long. As usual, they all came together for breakfast in a large room at the Citadel, but rather than going to guard the late King Théoden's body, as he told them he was assigned to do, he doubled about and discreetly followed Anamaria from breakfast. She seemed a little preoccupied as she made her way to one of the several buildings that surrounded the Court of the Fountain, though Merry could not even begin to guess what was on her mind.

She stepped up to a doorway of one of the buildings, knocking loudly on the wooden door. Merry kept himself hidden behind a neighboring building, and while he was unable to see anything, his sharp ears were able to pick up the conversation.

"I'm here to see Am- uh, Lord Amrothos," said Anamaria.

"One moment, my lady," said another voice, a servant who opened the door, Merry assumed.

Less than a minute passed before he heard a new voice. "Anamaria!"

"Hey, Amrothos. I am not bothering you, am I?"

"No, no, of course not. You only surprised me; I thought I was to meet you outside of the dining hall."

"I finished early and didn't feel like waiting." The hobbit could almost hear the shrug in her voice. "Though, if you are not ready, I can go and wait-"

"No, there is no need. I was just about to come for you. Do you still wish to see the City?"

"Very much so. I have never been in such a large place before, and while it could be fun to be wander around until I was lost, I doubt Aragorn would be happy about that." She laughed at the thought. "Though, on second thought…"

"It is best if you see the City with one who knows it," said Amrothos, his voice suddenly serious. "The people of Minas Tirith largely do not know you or your part in the War, and many still hold anger against the Men that allied with Sauron. Some may mistake you for one of them and… let their anger overtake them."

"Ah, right, your father said something about that," she answered lightly. "But I wouldn't worry; I'm experienced and always win my fights. Against men, anyways, wargs are another issue," she muttered. "But if someone was stupid enough to attack me, he'd more likely find himself dead than the other way around." There was a short pause. "But of course, I've killed enough people over the last few months to last me for the rest of the year, so you can come with me," she added hurriedly. Merry could only imagine Amrothos' expression that prompted the woman so quickly to reassure him.

"You are unlike any woman I have ever met in my life thus far, Anamaria."

She laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is meant to be one."

It was at that moment that what he was hearing finally hit him, and he leaned his head back against the wall. It was so obvious! He knew Anamaria spent a lot of time with Amrothos in the Houses of Healing, and even after they were discharged, she was still not always with others of the Fellowship or Éowyn. Merry never before thought about where she was when she was not around, but now everything was falling in place.

He barely noticed as they left his house and began to walk to the Citadel gate, and when he did, he did not bother to follow them. Her mystery was solved; now it was time to inform Pippin.

When he did manage to find his cousin, helping himself to second breakfast, he did not bother with any pleasantries.

Pippin nearly choked on his roll. "Fancies? What do you mean 'fancies'?"

"I mean fancies. Anamaria fancies Amrothos. I haven't seen her so light-hearted, well, ever. Even in the Shire she wasn't laughing this much. And I am sure that Amrothos fancies her back."

The younger hobbit sat back in his chair as he thought about this revelation. "Well. I suppose that explains things. It would definitely explain why she is always 'thinking', as she says. I'm just surprised I didn't see it sooner."

"No more so than I," said Merry. "I spent days upon days with her in the Houses of Healing, but I was so caught up in thinking about everyone else marching to war, as well as Éowyn and her dour mood and ways to make her happy, that I did not even notice the change in Anamaria. Now it's obvious."

"Definitely," said Pippin. "Now that we know, what should we do?"

"What do you mean 'what should we do'?"

"We should, you know, maybe help her along."

Merry laughed. "Pip, she doesn't _need_ any help. She was so impatient after breakfast to see Amrothos that she didn't wait for him to come to her and strode up to his place!"

Pippin laughed. "Good for Anamaria! Well, Merry, do you think she'll invite us?"

"What?"

"To the wedding."

Merry stared at his cousin. "They just met a couple months ago. If they end up wanting to get married, it won't be for years. Men take a long time to wed, with the courting, and then the long engagement period."

"Well, that's silly," said Pippin. "Hobbits see that things work out properly, and when they've courted for a while, get married right quick, seeing the whole thing is all done before a year's passed. Longer than that is ridiculous."

"Well, we're hobbits," said Merry. "Men are strange that way."

The other shrugged. "At least Anamaria seems to have some plain hobbit sense in her and is trying to move things along. Maybe she'll really speed things up and marry him while we're still here."

Merry laughed. "Perhaps, Pippin. Perhaps."

O0O0O0O

It was the day of the wedding of the new king and his queen, and everywhere about the Citadel people were bustling about. Decorations were hung, the feasting hall of Merethrond was prepared for great crowds, and the kitchens were filled with cooks renowned in their crafts, creating a great meal that they were sure would impress all of their guests.

And, in his own corner of one of the great kitchens of the Citadel, proudly looking over his works of art, was Jack.

He told Aragorn some days before his coronation all the supplies he would need, and in what numbers, and the king had found them. While the country was still recovering from the War, two food items the City had not been lacking in at all was yeast and molasses. Why, he did not know, but he learned long ago not to question his luck. Also available were several empty oak barrels, which made him all the more eager to get started.

The captain had found plenty of eager volunteers to help him, the assistants in the kitchen eager to learn how to make a new dish with one of the companions of the new king. Throughout the last two weeks he watched over several servants seeing to the fermentation of his creation, checking in daily to see on the progress of his project. Now all was nearly complete.

What he made in Edoras was rum, but it was not_ rum_. He was not given nearly enough time to see the molasses fermented properly, even for the miniscule amount that he had. Indeed, he was rather sure he was more intoxicated by the yeast than actual alcohol. How that happened he could not be sure, but yeast was a mischievous bugger.

But now, now he had all the time and tools to do it properly, a fact that pleased him greatly. All of his volunteers were nearly done distilling all of the liquid and already were putting it into the oak barrels, which he had seen properly dated.

Perfect.

He heard the bustle in the kitchen around him become unnaturally still, and he turned around to see Will and Aragorn coming to him, several of the cooks pausing to bow or curtsey deeply before the king.

"How's the rum coming along?" Will asked.

"Wonderfully. We're nearly done here; I'll roll one of these up to the wedding, and the rest can be put away for a while. Two to seven years, usually," he added.

"Where did you learn how to make rum, anyways?" wondered Will as he glanced inside one of the casks.

"Tortuga, of course. Where else?"

"Of course," he replied wryly.

"Will this new rum, without the aging, taste well enough for tonight?" Aragorn asked.

"Rum at any age tastes wonderful," Jack argued. "Remember, it's Sogoneru!"

"How could I forget?" the king muttered, rolling his eyes with a smile.

"Here, have some," said Jack, indicating to some goblets to his side. He took a goblet and dipped it into an open cask. "Drink and forever see life differently."

"Best try it while he is still feeling generous," Will said, grabbing two cups and handing one to Aragorn.

"Shut up." Jack took a long swig of the drink. He put his cup down, sighing loudly, coughing, and then smiling. "Oh, strong, and not quite the same taste as the normal aged stuff, but does it taste good. I've missed it."

Will dipped his own cup into the barrel and drank. He swallowed loudly and blinked, but his grin was nearly as wide as Jack's. "I don't know what you did, Jack, but this is by far the best drink I've had in a long time."

"Better than anything here, eh?"

Aragorn, seeing their obvious pleasure with the drink, put it into the cask and picked up some of the liquid. Sniffing it cautiously, he took a sip and let it sit on his tongue for about a second before his face contorted into one of complete disgust. "This is terrible!"

Will and Jack stared at him.

"Heathen," said the captain. He dipped his goblet once more into the cask. "Well, more for me."

"Give it a couple of years," said Will with a shrug. "It tastes better when it has aged… though how you could not like it even now…"

"Like I said, bloody heathen." He finished his second cup and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. "Well, I'm looking forward to when these jewels have aged a while, and I'll be keeping them stored away here for easy access. Aragorn, if you even think of throwing them out, I'll lead the next pirate attack on this place myself."

"Not so loudly, you're worrying the cooks," Will muttered, but Aragorn only raised his brow.

"I would enjoy watching such a futile attempt," he replied. When Jack frowned, he held up his hands. "Peace, Jack, I will see to it that they remain untouched."

"You best do that," he muttered. "Unappreciative of my work. I'll find someone who truly understands the wonder that is rum, you mark my words."

When night fell and Aragorn and Arwen were married, Jack found another, though quite unexpected supporter. The barrel was available with the rest of the drinks at a large table after the feast, and he was quite happy to claim ownership to its creation to anyone who would listen.

"Captain Sparrow," said a feminine voice behind him even as he grabbed another glass. Whirling about, he was surprised to see that it was Arwen. "May I have a glass?"

"But of course, my lady!" he exclaimed with an extravagant bow, nearly spilling his drink all over himself. He picked up another cup and gave it to the new queen with a cheeky grin. Behind her, he saw Aragorn, who was dancing with an elf maiden, shoot him a look. He happily ignored it.

She lifted her nose over the drink, her expression hesitantly curious as she took a slow sip. Her eyes slightly widened as she experienced the flavor and swallowed. "I have never tasted a drink like this before. This is quite unlike any wine."

"It is rum, not wine!" he declared.

She smiled. "Not wine at all!" She took another sip, a little faster this time. "I like it."

"Excellent." He grinned. "Wait until the rum down in the kitchens has aged a year, or two, or three. Oh, it's good stuff, good stuff."

Her eyes sparkled. "You have made more?"

"Barrels and barrels, love!" He glanced behind her and grinned at the man approaching. "Of course, they won't remain there long if Aragorn tosses them."

Arwen turned and eyed her husband. "Surely you will not discard this interesting drink?"

"Interesting?" he repeated, laughing. "It is horrible!"

"It is different, yes," she admitted, "but I enjoy the taste. It enlivens my tongue unlike any drink has for quite some time."

"Beautifully put," Jack added.

Elizabeth approached as she overheard Arwen's last statement, dismay written on her features. "Do not say you actually like that vile drink, my friend."

The bride turned, slightly frowning. "It is different, and a little bitter, but hardly vile, Elizabeth."

"You haven't had my experiences with it," the woman muttered, glancing at Jack. He looked back innocently at her.

"You just need new experiences," he argued, all but forcing a glass into her hand.

She stared at him for a moment, took one sip, and then handed it back to him. "No. Still as vile as I remember." She glanced at the queen. "Sorry." Arwen only shook her head, but she smiled.

"You are just as hopeless as my husband," said the elf, glancing at Aragorn lovingly. He took her hand, and she absentmindedly placed her glass down, her eyes only on him as they went back to the dance floor. Elizabeth beamed at them, following them swiftly to look for her own husband, while Jack only shot them a look before returning his attention to his creation.

O0O0O0O

When they were each summoned to see Gandalf at one appointed time early in the afternoon, they were not sure what he wanted of them, but deep inside, they knew that it was something important; something that would end up changing their lives, no matter what decision they made.

The White Wizard sat down in an easy chair by the fireplace, a glass of red wine in his hand. The four of them- Jack, Anamaria, Will, and Elizabeth- settled around the room, each of them staring at the old man, waiting for him to speak.

"I have been in counsel with those wiser than I," started Gandalf slowly, "and, as I suspected, you were brought here for a reason. While the Powers could not aid Middle-earth directly, they found potential in you and sent you here. Indeed, it was your fate to aid us in this war, and who can say what would have happened otherwise?

"They are pleased with the results, and for your loyalty and good work, you now have a choice. You may travel north, with the hobbits to the Shire and beyond, to the Grey Havens. There you will take a ship and sail west, but not the Straight Path like the elves, but rather another, a path that will lead you back to your world. If you choose not to sail, you will remain here in Middle-earth for the rest of your days."

A long silence followed Gandalf's words. Elizabeth and Will, as one, looked to each other, their expressions unreadable to everyone else. Anamaria averted her furrowed gaze, turning to a window that looked to the mountains, and Jack stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace, his face void of emotion.

"How much time has passed in our world?" Elizabeth asked. "Could we be brought back to the time we left?"

"Unfortunately, no," said Gandalf. "As for how much time has passed, the passage of time in your world is nearly identical to Middle-earth. You have been here for near eight months, and once you actually reach the Grey Havens and sail, a year will have gone since you were sent here."

"A year," muttered Will. "They must believe us dead."

"You need not decide now," the wizard said when no one else spoke. "You will have plenty of time to make your final decision. We- the hobbits, the elves, several of the Dúnedain, and myself- will begin our trip back to the North with King Théoden's funeral procession. It is my understanding that Aragorn will travel with us to Isengard- which was under Gondor's rule for centuries before Saruman took residence there- and so you have until then to make up your minds. I have spoken with Lord Elrond, and he has said that any who stay in Middle-earth is welcome to live in Rivendell, for there will be elves there for many years yet. I imagine that Aragorn will allow all of you to remain here in Minas Tirith, as well, and will see to it that you are well-established."

They said nothing to his statement, and, sensing their need for privacy and time to absorb all that they had learned, stood and left the room, leaving them to their own counsel concerning their fates.

* * *

You can see my explanation of 'le hannon' as opposed to 'hannon le' in the notes of Chapter 25.

Only one more chapter to go, so stick around :)


	43. The End of an Age

Posted for this story's 7th anniversary... the last chapter!

* * *

Chapter 43: The End of an Age

That night at dinner they were unusually silent, and their friends easily noticed. It was the first time since Aragorn's and Arwen's marriage that the couple was available to dine privately with the Fellowship, and earlier in the day all of them were eager to see the couple, both of whom had been very busy with state and family affairs. Even that excitement could not cover the four's deep concerns over the important choice they had to make.

Gimli was the first to give into his curiosity.

"Why are you all so solemn?" he asked bluntly, glancing meaningfully at the four of them. "None of you have spoken more than a couple of words for hours."

"Are you feeling sick?" Merry asked. "You all don't look sick, but maybe you get sick in a way different from hobbits."

"No, Men experience the same symptoms as hobbits, I believe," said Aragorn, a slight frown on his face as he looked at his friends; his wife mirrored his expression. "Has something happened?"

"I suppose you could say that," Will said, exhaling softly. "Gandalf just told us today that, if we so wish it, we can go home."

"Home!" Sam muttered in awe. "But how? You landed in the pond by Hobbiton!"

"Those of our friends who wish to return to their former land would sail from the Grey Havens," said Gandalf. "They have many weeks still to make their decision."

"If any of you wish to remain, all of you would have a home here in Minas Tirith," said Aragorn.

Arwen nodded in agreement. "There is plenty of room in the Citadel. And if the Stone City is not to your liking, I am sure my father would gladly have you in Rivendell."

"I imagine you could find a place with all of us," said Legolas with a smile. The others nodded.

"Thank you," said Elizabeth softly. "We appreciate your generosity, truly. But we have not made any final decisions yet."

"But you can't leave!" said Pippin suddenly.

"Peregrin!" Frodo muttered sternly. "That is their decision to make, not yours."

He fell silent for a brief moment, but his gaze caught Anamaria's. "But what about Amrothos?" he asked. She blinked, and then set her unmoving stony gaze onto the hobbit.

"Pippin!" Merry groaned.

The younger hobbit turned red. "Oh, right…"

"What about Amrothos?" asked Aragorn, his gaze moving from Pippin to Anamaria. The hobbit remained completely silent, and after a moment, the woman exhaled loudly.

"We're only friends- not that it's anyone's business," she added, frowning darkly at Pippin. He turned a darker red.

"He, at least, fancies you," said Merry.

Her gaze softened. "Do you really think- no," she broke herself off. "We are not having this conversation. It's none of your business- no one's business," she added, glaring at the table one last time before standing up and stomping out of the room.

The silence after her departure was deafening for approximately ten seconds. After that, Jack finished off his goblet of ale with the smacking of his lips. "She definitely likes him." He turned to the two younger hobbits. "Well done there, by the way. I haven't seen her that angry in a long time."

"I didn't mean to!" Pippin argued. Merry said nothing, but his frown spoke lengths.

"Peace," said Aragorn calmly. "We know you did not, Pippin. Nonetheless, I would recommend that both of you leave her to her own affairs from now on. What happens- if anything happens- is between Anamaria, Amrothos, and his father." The two of them nodded. "As Gandalf said, our friends," he nodded to Will, Elizabeth, and Jack, "have a long time to decide. Éomer, who left with the rest of his people just a couple days ago, as you know, said that he will come for the body of King Théoden once he has set order in Rohan, and he said to expect it to be sometime after Midsummer. The elves of Rivendell and Lórien have decided to journey back to their home with his funeral procession, and I believe that with them it would be best for you," he nodded to Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry, "to travel back to the Shire. It could be as long as August until any decision must be made, so you will not bother them about the issue unless they speak to you specifically about it." This last comment he directed mostly to Pippin, who nodded solemnly.

"I saw that Éowyn left with her brother," said Merry. "Did she and Lord Faramir… well, you know…"

Aragorn smiled. "Yes, though it is not to be revealed to others beyond this room," he warned. "Faramir and Éowyn will marry, but it will not be publicly announced until after Théoden's funeral."

"That is wonderful to hear," said Elizabeth with a smile. "I have not spoken much with Lord Faramir, but he seems to be very kind and honorable, and Éowyn does seem to love him."

"Faramir is very honorable," said Frodo. "He treated us well when we came upon him in the Wild."

"He looks so much like his brother," Will muttered. The table fell silent as they remembered the fallen warrior and the other who died with him on Amon Hen.

"To Boromir and to Gibbs," said Aragorn, lifting up his glass in tribute, the others swiftly following his lead. "They will forever remain in our hearts and memories."

The company gathered drank, and Will wondered if he and Elizabeth would soon only be a memory for all of their friends here in Middle-earth.

O0O0O0O

The parapet overlooking the Pelennor and the river was her favorite place to be when she needed time to think. She loved the fresh breeze flowing about the high area, and sometimes she thought she could catch the scent of the salty ocean air. She was rather sure that it was only her imagination and her memories messing with her senses.

Anamaria picked at the fine woolen sleeve that made up part of her outfit. The material was dyed a blue that greatly reminded her of the Caribbean waters. Before she joined Jack's crew, one of her favorite things to do was take her small sailboat out on the water and relax. She loved that little boat; she would never quite forgive Jack for taking it and destroying it, whatever his intentions were.

A sigh escaped her lips. She had both nothing and everything in the Caribbean. Tortuga was hardly a reputable place, but she had little choice in the past and she survived it well enough before landing in Jack's crew. And beyond that, she had a boat and the beautiful ocean as her companions, both which made the Tortuga nights and Jack's insufferable moments bearable. Now she had options, and with the friends she had, she could start a rich life somewhere else in the Caribbean.

But there was also the fact that she had friends, people she genuinely cared about, and a new world that seemed to offer just as much, if not more, to her.

She heard footsteps behind her, and she looked over her shoulder and saw a familiar face. "Amrothos."

"Good afternoon, Anamaria." He smiled as he joined her on the wall. She nodded absentmindedly to his greeting as her mind went back to the ocean. She did not love the sea as much as Jack, but she liked it well and, after so many months of not seeing a hint of it, she missed it. She wanted to sail again.

"Anamaria?"

She blinked and shook herself out of her thoughts. "Yes, what?"

"I just asked how you were."

"Oh, right. Yea, I'm fine."

He frowned slightly. "You are sure you are feeling well? This past week you have talked less and smiled little. Is there something the matter?"

She was about to repeat herself and claim that she was fine, but she paused. Long hours of conversation she had with Amrothos revealed quickly that he enjoyed sailing as much as she did; perhaps he would understand her longing, even though he did not know her full back story. And perhaps he would understand why she was so torn in two.

"I have had a lot to think about," she admitted. "I just found out that I'm able to return home."

He smiled. "Well, certainly that is good news. You have spoken often about the beautiful warm waters surrounding your land, and it seems a lovely place."

"That is only because I haven't told you about my time on land, living in Tortuga," she said with a chuckle. "But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't go back to that, not with people like Aragorn, Gandalf, and all the elves supporting me. No, I can do rather well for myself if I go. I just cannot decide if I want to."

The young man's face was unreadable. "Why would you not want to?"

"Well, I have friends here. Actual friends, me." She snorted lightly. "And the thought of never seeing them again actually makes me… well, you know." She shrugged.

"You can always visit; with the Dark Lord's fall, travel will be much safer and easier to accomplish."

Anamaria shook her head. "It's not that simple. My home is… pretty far away. I could not visit."

"Something could be arranged-"

"Just trust me on this. If I went back to where I came from, I would not be able to visit, ever, and no one would be able to visit me." She gazed firmly at him, and he slowly nodded.

"Very well, then," he said in acquiesce. "I do not understand you, but I will take your word on it." He slightly frowned as he contemplated her situation. "So you are torn between the sea of your home and your friends."

"Something like that, I guess."

"What about your sea makes it special for you?"

"Oh, well, it's not really that the ocean is different from others; it's just that I want to sail again. Minas Tirith isn't exactly on the beach, and Rivendell isn't, either. Even if it was, I don't think I'd be comfortable living with a bunch of elves." She smirked at the thought before falling serious again. "I want to live near the ocean, have a boat, and enjoy it again. It used to be my only joy; now I have the joy of having friends to compete with it, as ridiculous as that sounds."

"No, it is not ridiculous at all." He watched her for a moment, and she held his gaze, noticing for the first time that his eyes were a sea-grey color. "My home, Dol Amroth, is right on the beach and has its own great harbor. If you wish, I am sure some living arrangement could be made for you, and I will see to it that you have a small craft."

"You would do that?" She did not bother to hide her excitement at his proposition; her delight lit up her eyes.

"Yes, of course," he said with a smile. "It will take some time, for my father must return to Dol Amroth and see that all is in order, but I will make sure that it is done."

She grinned. "I cannot tell you how much that means to me, having my own boat again. I can wait for a while yet, don't worry about that."

"I am glad." His smile slightly faded, and he cleared his throat. "In truth, Anamaria, I hope you decide to stay, and that my offer has changed your mind about leaving, especially since you claim you would never be able to visit. You see, I plan to ask my father to allow me to remain in the City for a few more months, and I do not see any reason why he would say no. However, my reason for my wish to stay is, frankly put, you. I have enjoyed our days together greatly and want to spend further time with you. If we continue to get along as we have, perhaps we could… move our relationship further." He coughed and cleared his throat again. "However, if you are not interested, I will go to Dol Amroth and see to your living arrangements, and not bother you unnecessarily."

She blinked, speechless for a moment. When she saw he was still awaiting an answer, and slowly growing less confident as the seconds ticked by, she shook herself out of her dumbness. "That- that would be great. That would be very nice. Yes, I think I'd like that a lot." She nodded to herself for a moment, attempting to process everything that had just happened. As she did, she slightly narrowed her eyes. "You want to stay here- away from the sea- for _me_?"

He grinned. "I love to sail, but I can wait. I am more interested in, well…" He trailed off, but his implication was clear.

She nodded quickly, wondering why she all of a sudden felt so light-headed. "Yes, I understand. And I think that you staying here in Minas Tirith would be great. Wonderful." She paused for a brief moment. "Thank you, Amrothos, I now know what I am going to do. I need to find Gandalf." She smiled one last time before leaving him, and the young man watched her walk away, his eyes bright with joy.

O0O0O0O

When her husband could not be found in the guesthouse that the Fellowship shared, Elizabeth went immediately to the royal armory and forgery, which he often visited with Gimli to oversee the worker's doings. To Will's surprise when he first visited, he found their technology did not match that of Earth, despite the fact that they seemed to have all available resources. Gimli was little surprised.

"Men were once said to be well-skilled in this area, but that was long ago; and even then, no man can match the skill of a dwarf!"

Will had scoffed. "Nonsense. I will see this place up and running and forging weapons and tools that even best those of the dwarves."

"I would like to see that!" Gimli had laughed.

And so Will went to the royal forgery often, overseeing the construction of faster, more productive machines that would increase the speed and lower the cost of forging items. That day she found both Aragorn and Legolas with her husband as he explained the mechanics of one of the machines, just newly finished.

"Will!" she called out from the large open door of the forgery. She smiled briefly in acknowledgement to her two friends before continuing. "Do you have a minute? I must speak with you." Looking slightly puzzled, he nodded and walked outside to join her.

"What is it? I was just showing Aragorn and Legolas the-"

"Anamaria is staying."

He blinked, not completely grasping the significance of her short statement. "What?"

"Anamaria has made her choice. She is staying in Middle-earth."

"What- how do you know this? When did she choose?"

"Apparently some many days ago." She frowned. "I think she was going to keep it a secret from us, but Amrothos inadvertently let the cat out of the bag. She told him and he mentioned it in bypassing in our last conversation."

Will nodded slowly. "Well… I suppose her choice makes sense. She did not have anything to go back to in the Caribbean, and it is rather obvious that she and Amrothos are certainly becoming good friends. She is better off here."

"Yes, so it seems. And what about us?"

"What about us?"

"We have not discussed this issue at all since the day Gandalf brought it up; we need to make a choice!"

"Elizabeth, we have still about two months, if not more-"

"I think we should make the decision sooner rather than later, and now knowing Anamaria's decision, I really think we should discuss this now." She looked up at him expectantly.

"This is not a decision we want to rush."

"But it is not rushed! I had come to acceptance long ago, many months ago when I began contemplating never returning home. I had finally come to peace with never seeing my father again. And now Gandalf throws this at us! I need to have my mind at peace once more, Will; I cannot go on like this. The question gnaws at my heart night and day."

"Is all well?" Legolas asked hesitantly as he slowly approached, Aragorn right behind him. Elizabeth glanced at them apologetically; she had not realized how loud she was.

"Yes, we are fine," Will said. His wife frowned at him.

"No, we are not." She turned to the other two. "Anamaria has decided to stay in Middle-earth. I want to put my own heart to rest and decide our fates." She turned back to her husband. "Let us not continue to dodge the issue. I want us to decide."

He lifted up his hands in defeat. "Well, Elizabeth, what do you want?"

She opened her mouth and then closed it, her fiery, forceful spirit dissolving. "I- I want to remain with friends- but I- I want to see my father again." She sighed and closed her eyes, partially turning away from them. "But he is old, and only growing older. How much longer do I have with him: five years, maybe ten years? And if we decide to travel back to the Caribbean, it will have been a year since we disappeared… what if they have already accepted our deaths and moved on? What would my sudden reappearance do to him?"

"I cannot say," Will said gently, laying a hand on her shoulder while Aragorn and Legolas watched her sympathetically. "But what would happen to us here? I do not know what we can do here, now that the War is over."

"There are many things you could do here, Will," said Aragorn. "You seem to enjoy working here in the forgery. If you wish it, I can put you at its head. You could also join the guard, or become a merchant, or any number of things. I will see you well-started."

"I want to be with Elizabeth as often as I can," he confessed. "I do not think the latter two professions would allow that as much. However, I must admit that I am enjoying my work here in the forges, working to improve these machines and finding any sort of way to beat Gimli at his own game." The others laughed lightly. "I think I could work here."

"That is well," said Aragorn. "And Elizabeth, my wife would relish your company as one of her ladies, if you wish it. You two could live here in the Citadel or in the sixth circle if you want more privacy."

"I would enjoy that," said Elizabeth softly. She exhaled. "I came to terms long ago that I may not see my father again. I simply have to come to those terms once more." She nodded, as if assuring herself she was doing the right thing.

"I am not sure if the Caribbean would have been a viable choice for us now, considering how much time has passed," Will said gently.

Elizabeth only bobbed her head slightly in acknowledgement. "Yes. Staying here seems the obvious choice, really." Her gaze moved from her husband to her friends. "And I have grown greatly accustomed to this world and its people, and I cannot imagine a life in which I never saw any of you ever again. You all have become dear friends to me."

She suddenly looked to her husband again, her affection now turned into worry. "But what about Jack?"

He frowned deeply; he knew what she worried about. "I do not know. I cannot think of any sure reason he would stay here in Middle-earth, and I do not think he would stay because of us; he was always his own man."

"Perhaps he will surprise us; he has certainly changed since we first came here," said Elizabeth, but she was unable to conceal her doubt. "Oh, I know I cannot stand him half the time, but a world without Jack Sparrow seems wrong. How could we convince him to stay?"

"Perhaps he could be a part of Gondor's navy," suggested Legolas. "He would be on a ship very often."

"No, I doubt he would go for something like that, though if you dare offer it to him, Aragorn, you could try," said Will. The other man nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe we could entice with him some sort of… oh, hidden treasure of some sort. He would stay to search for something like that, surely. Are there any legends of hidden treasures somewhere around this world?"

"Nothing I am aware of," said Legolas, and Aragorn only shook his head. "Truthfully, my friends, there could be such a legend, but we have no way of knowing it if the legend comes from the East or South. Little is known about those lands; the elves have had little reason to explore them, and most kingdoms of Men residing here in the West have been enemies with Men of the Eastern and Southern Lands for as long as I have lived, and longer. Now that Sauron has fallen, perhaps it will change."

"Peace is indeed what I seek with countries both East and South," said Aragorn. "For the first time in centuries, Gondor may become allies with nations in these areas and learn more about these lands."

Elizabeth glanced at her husband. "Exploring uncharted lands sounds like something in Jack Sparrow's field."

Will slightly smiled at her. "Perhaps there is hope, yet."

O0O0O0O

The longest day of the year came and went and still the Fellowship remained in Minas Tirith, but their days together were drawing to a close. King Éomer had sent word that he was to soon come for the body of Théoden, and with his procession was to journey all the elves, the hobbits, Gandalf, and if he so chose, Jack, to Edoras and then back to the lands of the North. Anamaria's, Will's, and Elizabeth's choices were at this point known by the rest of the Fellowship, and while their friends rejoiced in their decision to remain in Middle-earth, they anxiously awaited the captain's decision. Most of the Fellowship, as per Aragorn's request, did not try to persuade him any which way. The three who already made their decision had no such qualms.

They were unusually cautious and not too persistent with their pestering, but they were earnest. Throughout the month of June, Jack had endured pestering from both Anamaria and Will, and even Elizabeth threw in a word or two by her husband's side. The captain, however, left no clues about his thought process or any hints about which direction he was leaning towards.

Despite his evasive answers and despite the fact that it did not seem they would have any influence over his decision as the weeks passed, they had not completely given up on him.

"Jack."

He turned from the enormous statue of some sour-looking king in the throne room to look at the speaker. "Elizabeth." His brows rose as she dangled something in front of him.

"I found this in the market yesterday. It comes all the way from Dol Amroth, which is supposed to be rather far away. Uncanny, is it not?"

He took a step closer and cocked his head as he inspected it. "It looks nearly the same as your old bracelet! Only with real gems now, of course." The captain unconsciously brought up a hand to touch one of the stones.

To his surprise, the woman dropped it into his hand. "It is yours. Consider it a thank you for the adventure."

Jack grinned. "You're too kind." Reaching into one of his many pockets of his old, ragged coat, he pulled out the bracelet he took from her back on the _Dauntless_. "You can have this back," he added as he tossed it to her.

Elizabeth caught it, surprise obvious on her features. "You kept this worthless thing all this time?"

"Eh. It looked nice."

She smiled as she put on the bracelet. "It does look nice. And it is a bit of- well, a bit of my old home." He nodded idly as she glanced down, and as Jack turned around and took a step back to see if the statue looked more or less bad-tempered at a distance, Elizabeth said suddenly, "Jack, you can't leave!"

He blinked once before turning to her. "_You_ want me to stay?"

"Of course!"

"You weren't just agreeing with Will all this time just to make him happy?"

"No! What sort of woman do you take me for?"

"True." His eyes lit up in acknowledgement, but his expression quickly melted into a puzzled frown. "I thought you hated me."

"What? No, of course not!" She paused. "Well, yes, sometimes I cannot bear your presence, but that hardly means I dislike you, never mind want to see you leave forever."

He blinked again before nodding. "Ah. Well, glad we got that cleared up." Looking once again at the statue, he decided that it looked equally angry both close up and further away.

"I am serious, Jack," she insisted, following him as he moved onto another statue to see if it looked just as cross as its neighbor. When he found a similar expression on its face, he idly wondered if all of Aragorn's ancestors were really angry men or if they were just carved that way. His thoughts about the statues and their resemblances to the people they were modeled after went on as Elizabeth continued. "You cannot leave after all that has happened. You have nothing to go back to in the Caribbean that you cannot gain here, and if you left, you would be leaving behind people who genuinely care about your welfare. I mean, here, what with our friends, you could easily get a ship. You could maybe even command many ships under Aragorn's army, or-"

The only word the man heard out of her speech was 'ship', and it was the one he latched onto. "Ship? You think someone would give me a ship? For free?"

"Well, Gandalf did say that we were going to be given a ship to sail to the Caribbean. Why wouldn't they give you a ship for this world instead? It would not hurt to ask."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "That is true." He smiled brightly at the young woman. "Very true." He turned once again to the statue in front of him, and then looked back to the one that he was looking at before. "Say, do you think that Aragorn's great grand-dads were all this angry or that they were just carved that way?" He paused. "Maybe Aragorn would know."

Elizabeth stared incredulously at him. "You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying, have you?" She lifted her hands up in frustration and stormed out of the large room, Jack not even sparing a last glance as she left.

Later that night, the Fellowship was once again gathered for a meal together; it would be one of their last before departing with Théoden's funeral procession for Rohan. In the middle of their meal, during a lapse of conversation, Jack said unexpectedly, "Can I have a ship?"

Aragorn blinked. "A ship?"

"Yes, a ship. You know, boat. Sails, riggings, deck, all that. To own." He paused. "For free, preferably."

Legolas smiled. "I am sure something could be arranged. Perhaps Círdan of the Grey Havens could see to it." He glanced at Gandalf for confirmation, and the wizard nodded.

"And if that elf is of no use," said Gimli, "I will build you one! My people began learning the art of building ships once we moved back to the Lonely Mountain, what with the River Running flowing right into our halls and so much trade with Dale and Esgaroth done by boat. Our boats are sturdy and will bear you far."

"There is no need for either," said Aragorn. "Many vessels small and large came into the state of Gondor's possession due to many of their owners perishing in the War. I am certain that I could find a ship currently unmanned that would fit your needs."

"Wonderful," Jack said, sitting back in his chair. "It looks like I have several options. Well, I am glad that's settled."

"Glad _what's_ settled?" Merry asked, completely baffled.

"Well, the only way I'd stay here is if I had a ship. I have many options, it looks like, and now that I'm guaranteed a ship, I figure I'll stay."

"You mean you won't go back to your old home?" Pippin asked, his eyes lit up.

"Well," Jack said thoughtfully, "I have a ship here, and I have some nice connections here, so I figure that jumping on a boat and sailing the ocean here would be less of a hassle than traveling all the way to these Grey Havens and going back to a world where I'm lesser off than I am here."

"That is wonderful!" Elizabeth grinned.

"Calls for some sort of celebration!" Pippin added.

Jack shot up. "Rum!"

"We'll have someone bring it here," Gimli agreed enthusiastically.

Aragorn and Elizabeth glanced at each other distastefully as the others eagerly responded to the addition of Jack's exotic drink to the meal. The man shook his head.

"I will endure the presence of the foul drink if it makes Jack happy," said Aragorn to the woman.

"As will I," Elizabeth replied. "But best keep a few bottles of wine on the table for us; it is bound to be a long night."

"But a joyous one."

"Very much so," she said, smiling as the barrel of rum was rolled into the room to the chorus of cheers.

O0O0O0O

EPILOGUE: Six Months Later

The sun was just beginning to rise in the east when the two men met at the docks. While there were workers on the docks of Harlond even at this time of the day, little heed was paid to the two cloaked figures standing at a small, but sturdy one-man boat, nor to the tall man leaning against a wall at the end of the dock, waiting patiently.

Jack glanced up and down at the ship. "It's not _The Black Pearl_, but it'll do for now."

"I am glad you approve," said Aragorn with a slight smile. He brought his fur-lined cloak a little closer to him as the wind picked up.

"Does it have a name?"

"Not to my knowledge."

He looked it over with a critical eye. "Well, it's not black, but it is a nice bright white. Hmm. _The Pearl, Jr. _it is, then, at least until I find myself a _Black Pearl the Second_."

Aragorn laughed softly. "It suits the name of a ship under your command."

"Thank you," he answered cheerfully. His smile faded after a moment and the captain, his eyes still on the ship and his emotions carefully veiled, said, "I've been thinking about maybe delaying my trip down South and heading up North instead, down the-" He frowned, pulled out a map from his pocket, unfolded it, and studied it for a moment. "-going down the Brandywine, and to the Shire, see if the hobbits need anything."

Aragorn's smile faded. "I have the same desire to be up there and be of assistance, Jack, but from Frodo's letter, it seems they have rounded up all of the brigands and are now taking care of any of their kind who willfully assisted them, and are bringing them to justice. You must remember, too, that the letter was dated mid-November and only arrived yesterday. By the time you arrive there, it will be near spring, and if I know anything about hobbits, they will be actively rebuilding the Shire."

Jack nodded, folding and putting the map away. "I suppose you're right. Seems a right pity what happened to the Shire; they were excited to be going home, and came back to ruins. Those four, out of all people, didn't deserve that. '_Especially Frodo, after what happened to him…_.' The thought of the Ring, despite it being destroyed over nine months ago, still made him uneasy.

"No, they did not," Aragorn agreed. "But they will rebuild and recover. Frodo mentioned some of the efforts they were already making."

"And Saruman isn't going to be bothering them ever again," the other mentioned with a smirk. "I only wonder how long Wormtongue served him before he snapped and killed him like that."

"It was his choice to follow him," said Aragorn grimly, "and he could have left many times, especially after Saruman lost his power. Frodo's letter even mentioned that Gandalf told him to leave him; but in the end, he did not."

The captain shrugged. "Good riddance, the both of them."

"Perhaps."

Jack shrugged again, glancing up at the boat. All the supplies that he needed for a long journey were there, his personal belongings were packed, and he eagerly wanted to sail the ocean once more, but now that it came down to the actual moment, he felt a strange reluctance about leaving these people behind. Slightly frowning, he turned his thoughts away from his strange mood and quickly thought of another topic of conversation.

"So, Amrothos has been acting odd lately." He raised his brow expectantly; if anyone knew anything about any sort of situation, it would be Aragorn.

The king smiled. "Since you are leaving, I will tell you. He revealed to me last night that he received a response from his father about his request for his permission to court Anamaria. I am not sure what the outcome would have been if Amrothos had been his only son, but he is the youngest son of three, which worked in his favor, I imagine. Imrahil wrote that he agreed if I gave my blessing, and, of course, I did. The two have only grown closer these last few months. If she agrees- and I will be surprised if she does not- he will court her. A courtship is rarely shorter than six months, and often passes a year in length, at least in Gondor. If all goes well, he will propose, and they will be wed ere a year has passed."

Jack smiled softly. "She will be happy, I think. This place brought out a side of her she never revealed even to me, and she laughs a lot more than she did in the Caribbean. And Amrothos isn't stupid enough to try and keep her away from the boats."

Aragorn laughed. "Indeed, no! She seems to enjoy sailing, and often that is their topic of conversation."

He nodded, glancing at the boat once more. He could think of no other topics to stall for. "Well… I suppose I should be going. Sun's still climbing, and I want to be out before the docks get too busy."

The other's gladness softly faded into an expression Jack could not quite read. "You are sure you wish to leave? You would have a stable life here."

"And that's exactly why I'm leaving."

Aragorn slightly smiled. "You are sure? I imagine you could rise quickly in the Navy of the Reunited Kingdom. The current captain is soon to retire…"

He shook his head. "You should know me by now, mate. I _like_ you, really, but I don't do very well under authority. That whole concept doesn't quite register in my head, if you take my meaning. Will and Elizabeth are better at that sort of thing; they'll get along fine enough here in the City. I am quite ready to be out on the sea again. Savvy?"

He nodded, if not exactly in understanding, at the least in sympathy. "Then out to the open waters you shall go, Captain Sparrow. Do you still agree to my proposition?"

"O' course. It's easy money."

"You do realize that the further you travel South, the less information you will have about the lands you visit? Once you travel past Umbar, there will be no maps to aid you, for even Gondor has no information beyond that point. While I traveled far in the South many years ago, it was by land, and I kept little record of the distance or what I saw where, and it seems that my memory is the only thing in Gondor that knows or remembers anything of the many lands beyond. Record your distances, the shoreline, and all the places and peoples you come across. Buy and trade for goods that Gondor has not seen. Bring back as much information as you can to me, and you shall be readily compensated for your work. Indeed, I nearly forgot," and here he pulled out a small pouch, "a small accommodation, but a taste of what will come, if you do your work well."

"Aw. You shouldn't have," Jack said as he took the coin pouch, swiftly pocketing it.

Aragorn only smiled knowingly, but slightly frowned as he went back through his memories of his travels. "I remember coming upon no lands that spoke the Common Tongue past Umbar, and even there it was an uncommon tongue, though perhaps you will be lucky."

"Doubt it. But no worries; I've been in many places where I can't understand a word they're saying, and I pick up strange tongues well enough."

He nodded. "Very well, then. Be careful; while the lands I traveled were less hostile than Harad and Umbar, it has been many years."

"Oh, don't worry about me. I've survived some interesting situations. And in the end, there's always Bonnie." He patted the sheath of his gun.

He glanced at him wryly. "I hope that sort of situation does not come to you, and that you only fight in self defense."

"What sort of man do you take me for? I like to avoid fighting, thank you very much."

His wry expression did not abate as he continued, ignoring Jack's words as if they were not spoken. "Indeed, I would ask you to keep _any_ sort of lawbreaking to a minimum. I'd prefer if you kept yourself an honest sailor."

"Of course," he piped cheerfully.

The king raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Promise me you will not go around breaking the law."

"I give you my solemn oath that I will do my uttermost best not to break the law."

Aragorn smiled.

"In your lands."

Aragorn's smile disappeared.

The captain held up his hands in a peace offering. "Easy, mate. If anything should occur- which, of course, it won't- nothing shall come back to you."

"How can you guarantee that?"

He opened up his arms. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

The king opened his mouth as if to argue, but then closed it. The hour was growing late, and he had already stayed much longer than he had planned. Glancing behind him at the man waiting at the end of the docks, he said, "This farewell has gone on long, and I imagine Halbarad grows weary of waiting for me. I should head back up to the Citadel."

Jack nodded. He untied the boat from the dock and stepped lightly up the gangplank and onto the deck. Glancing back at Aragorn, he said, "I suppose I will be seeing you in a year or two."

He nodded. "Send word to me, if you can."

"Sure thing. I'll attempt to stop by around Anamaria's wedding."

"I believe she would appreciate that," Aragorn smiled. As the boat's sails were released and it caught wind, the king lifted up his arm. "Farewell, Jack."

Jack tipped his hat in his direction, and the man turned and walked off the deck to where Halbarad waited for him. The captain watched him walk away for a moment before turning his eyes to the Anduin, and he easily steered the boat into her eagerly flowing waters. As the vessel floated south, he spared one last glance at Minas Tirith before concentrating fully on the waters awaiting him.

He was ready to meet the horizon.

* * *

And I am done! Seven years of writing, of learning, and *tons* of editing, and my very first fan fic, the one that brought me into the wonderful, creative world of fan fiction, is completed. Over 200k words, too!

Just in case anyone is wondering:

**Will this story have a sequel?:  
**No. This story was the brainchild of a thirteen-year-old long since grown up, and while I have had tons of fun writing- and rewriting- it over these last seven years, I have several other stories that are dying to be written. I definitely don't regret writing it, though, because I learned more from writing this than anything else. And, of course, it was fun, and I like it as a happier alternative to the POTC sequels- I shall always be happy with the characters as they were at the end of the first POTC.

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Why in the world did you continue to write and/or rewrite this?:

I'm a bit of a completionist, and I liked the idea enough to continue as opposed to deleting it. The first major rewrite in 05 was to get rid of some horrible ideas my middle-school self thought were brilliant, and my larger, second major rewrite at the end of 08 was to scrape a couple horrible side stories and overall put it in a state where I could continue writing without shuddering in horror at what I wrote in the past. All minor edits ever since are because I am also a perfectionist.

**What are you working on next?:**  
I'm working on pieces, both very different genres. The first one is a post-War, book-verse, Aragorn-centered fic that takes place from June to November the year Sauron falls/his coronation. It's a political drama with a decent amount of action/angst, some humor, and a dash of canon romance. Faramir also plays a large role, and there are cameos from Arwen, Gandalf, minor Tolkien characters, and a lot of OCs. So far it is over 200 pages long. Learning my lesson from this story, I am not posting it until it is completed, and hopefully it will be up in 2011. The second story is one I'm co-authoring with a friend of mine. It will be a Buffy/LOTR crossover, taking place after the third season of Buffy, and it will primarily be an action/humor piece.

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Any other questions/quibbles?:

Feel free to PM me here on this website. 


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